Moving On
by Breezi
Summary: Just another story about the couple that should have been but weren't. I suck at summaries by the way. May be M later on.
1. Prologue

**Moving On **

**By: Breezi**

**Disclaimer: **I do not own _Red Eye_ or any of it's characters. I wish I did, but I don't. And I have to learn to deal with that.

**Author's Note: **Well, here I go again. This is my new _Red Eye _fic. Whole new plotline with new fun-filled characters and chaos. Hope you like it and let me know what you think!

**Prologue:**

_His hand clasped her firmly by the neck, holding her in place. She looked at him from the corners of her eyes and saw the look of pure desperation on his face. _

_"You don't have to do this," she said, trying to appeal to the more human side of him. The side of him that she had seen in the airport. The side of him that she wasn't sure really existed. "Any of this."_

_He laughed once, but there was no humor in his voice. Then, his eyes dropped from her face and she knew immediately what it was that his gaze had found. She felt his thumb brush over the skin of her chest, pulling the soft material at the neck of her shirt away to grant him a clearer view of the ugly scar. _

_"Did someone do that to you?" he asked, eyes darting back and forth between the scar and her face, his tone softer, hinting at just the slightest bit of compassion. _

_"No." she replied instinctively. _

_Then he looked back up at her, something scary in his eyes. They were hard and cold and she swore she saw something akin to jealousy. And she thought that he had been frightening before. "Is that what it is?" He hissed. _

_She didn't know how to respond. "No." she said, trembling. He was close. He was too close. He smelled too good. His skin was too warm. His eyes were too blue. Everything was just too much._

_Then, his face changed again. "You know what I think?" he growled through clenched teeth, his grip tightening on her throat as he pulled her around and slammed her into the mirror. Her air supply disappeared and he pushed her further and harder against the mirror, lifting her feet from the ground. She whimpered, but it only seemed to give him more fuel. He brought his face right next to her own, his mouth brushing against the outer shell of her ear as he spoke. "You know what I think? I think you're not such an honest person," he seethed, "because I've followed you for eight weeks now and I never once saw you order _anything _but a fucking seabreeze!"_

_"Can't breathe," she croaked, "I can't breathe."_

_Then, just like that, he let go. Oxygen flooded her lungs and she collapsed into the wall coughing as her body readjusted to the feeling of air circulation once again. As she coughed, he began washing her words from the mirror behind her. _

_"But I never lied to you, Leese," He kept talking, "Know why? Cause it doesn't serve me. We're both professional. We have the will and the means to follow through and when we don't, our customers aren't happy. And when they're not, we suffer and our lives go to shit." He threw down a paper towel and used his hand on her cheek in what might have looked like affection to an outsider, to force her to look at him. "And that's not gonna happen, is it?" he asked, pausing every few words to catch his breath._

_"No." she breathed, feeling like a lost little child._

_"Good." He said, breathing hard._

_Then, he just stared at her. In the next few seconds, his lips descended on hers. Once again, she was pinned to the mirror, but it was completely different. His hands groped greedily at her body and worked at sliding her skirt up to her hips._

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Lisa woke up, caked in cold sweat. Her breathing was shallow and labored and out of habit, her eyes searched the darkened bedroom for any trace that he had been there. Of course, there was none. It had been two years since that terrifying night on the red eye flight from Texas. Two years since Jackson Rippner had forever etched himself in her memory. Two years since she had found in herself the strength to survive. Two years, and Lisa Reisert had yet to move on.

Oh, everyone thought that she had and that she was fine, but she still dreamt about him; about his eyes. On the outside, she had been promoted at work, she was engaged to a well-respected, wealthy businessman, and she was constantly smiling and laughing at something or other. But on this inside, when no one was looking, she was constantly glancing over her shoulder for any sign of those amazing blue eyes. In her mind, she was constantly revisiting those moments in that airplane bathroom, whether it be consciously or unconsciously. In reality, he had said a few terse words, pushed her around, and then dragged her out to force her to make the phone call. He had stopped everything before he had ever touched her.

But, in her dreams he didn't stop. In her dreams, she never asked him to.

**Author's Note: **I know, I know, it's terribly short, but the chapters will get lengthier, scout's honor. Let me know what you think of the opening. Hasn't really gotten going yet, but, you know, feedback is greedily craved.


	2. Chapter One: Daniel

**Moving On **

**By: Breezi**

**Author's Note: **I have to say, I don't really _know _what to say to the reviews I've gotten from my prologue. I feel like I'm being held to some pretty high standards…I hope I don't let you guys down!

**Chapter One: Daniel**

It had been two years since what she and her family referred to simply as 'the incident'. Lisa had achieved a lot in that time. She was now in charge of overseeing the entire Lux Atlantic chain and making sure that everything was running as it should be. If there was a branch that was having a problem, she hopped on a plane, she wasn't so happy about that part, and went on out to check them out. Hersalary had increased dramatically, not to mention all the frequent flyer miles she was racking up, which she had every intention of giving away as Christmas presents. And then there was Daniel.

Daniel Davis was a thirty nine year old owner of an oil company. To say that he was loaded would be an understatement. The man could probably rival Bill Gates as the wealthiest man in the world. Not only had his father, whom he inherited the business from, built the company from the ground up, he had also taught his son the art of finance and investments. As a result, Daniel knew pretty much everything that there was to know about the business world. He was tall with sandy blonde hair and brown eyes, a square jaw and broad shoulders that gave off the impression of enormous strength and power. He was the type of guy who always got what he wanted. He always said that the moment he had seen Lisa, he had known that he had had to have her.

Lisa, on the other hand, had not been so certain about Daniel. He had been a guest at the hotel and as a rule, she generally didn't accept invitations from guests. But, his persistence had in the end won him a dinner. One dinner had turned into two, two into the three, and so on and so forth.

He was a good person. He had all this money and he was determined to use it to make the world a better place. So, he was getting into politics with aspirations of making some serious changes in the way the government ran things. Lisa respected that. He was so strong, and so good…sometimes Lisa didn't feel like she was good enough for him but she was determined not to sabotage the relationship.

As for Jackson Rippner, well, he had spent about a week in jail before the authorities contacted her to let her know that he had, I believe the exact term they had used had been 'disappeared'. Just like that, in the middle of the night he had vanished from his prison cell and no one had seen hide nor hair of him since. Lisa had known that they wouldn't be able to hold him. He was far too clever, too cunning, too damned resourceful. They had assured that they wouldn't stop hunting until they found him. It had been two years and apparently they were still looking. Lisa was fairly confident that they would never see him again. Rippner had been on the FBI's most wanted list for the longest time now. He wouldn't be found because he didn't want to be found. He was gone.

The FBI had offered to have Lisa put into the Witness Protection Program. Lisa had responded with laughter. "Do you think that Rippner wouldn't expect that?" she had asked. Then, they had offered her a protective detail at the very least. They were once again met with her laughter. He had slipped past them once without much of a problem and they thought that surrounding her with a few top notch feds was going to keep her safe from him if he decided that he wanted his vengeance. It was the most preposterous assumption she had ever heard any supposed federal agent make. She decided that she would take her chances going back to her normal life.

Lisa had also made a conscious decision not to tell Daniel about either of the events that had scarred her both mentally and physically all those years ago. There was no reason for him to know about the rape or 'the incident'. She didn't want him to treat her like she was a piece of glass that could be easily broken just because she had been through something that not many people had had the misfortune to go through. She wasn't some fragile little thing and she refused to let any guy, her father included in this, use her to fuel their damsel in distress complex. That's what she told herself anyway. In reality, she refused to allow herself ti further investigate the butterflies that always materialized in her stomach when she thought about Jackson Rippner. She attributed it to fear and nothing more. She knew deep down that it wasn't that simple, but to examine it any further would possibly damage her psyche more than she was prepared to do at this time. So, she was afraid of Jackson. That solution seemed to make everybody happy. Her father understood it, Cynthia understood it, the police understood it, and it was perfectly natural for her to fear him so she didn't have to worry about all those costly therapy bills. Terror was something that people could handle. With terror, everybody won.

When Daniel had asked her to marry him, it had been completely cliché and unoriginal and that was something that Lisa had felt that she needed at the time. Something…not scary…at least not in the conventional way. He had taken her to a nice restaurant, hidden the ring in her dessert, and given the long drawn out speech about how he loved her and she was the only one for him with lots of gushy adjectives. Lisa had said yes almost instantly. She had even tried to cry, but it hadn't quite come out right. Her bottom lip quivered, she sniffled, the damn tears just wouldn't come.

So, she was going to be Mrs. Daniel Davis. Cynthia was beyond thrilled for her and her father really just wanted for his daughter to be happy and he didn't particularly care how. He and Daniel didn't really get along, but Joe tolerated him because of the way he treated Lisa. Daniel treated Lisa like a queen.

So, Lisa was sitting there in the hotel lobby going over some files and being entertained by the sight of Cynthia running around crazily in the background. When Lisa had been promoted, so had Cynthia. She was the manager of the fabulous Lux Atlantic Resort now. After everything, Cynthia was now the one who had to deal with all the bullshit that guests could turn into problems and complaints. Lisa chuckled as Cynthia stared at one customer, that Lisa knew to be a picky guest, like he was stupid and kept going over her charts. She let her mind wander back to when she had had to deal with the guest in question, Mr. Thadius Reint. He was about fifty and thought that the sun shined out of his ass. He had come storming down into the hotel lobby wearing gold silken pajama pants and a dark red and black smoking jacket. It had looked like he was trying to pass for Hugh Heffner. He stomped up to her and complained that his mini bar had been short one bottle of vodka. While thinking to herself that he should really start attending some AA meetings, Lisa had agreed to comp the room two bottles, but that hadn't been good enough for Mr. Reint. He had felt the need to continue to yell and shout and make a scene for the next half hour before finally agreeing to the two free bottles she had offered from the get go. Lisa had caught the beginning of his more than likely prepared complaint to Cynthia, which had something to do with only one hand towel in his suite's bathroom. Of course, how was he supposed to survive with only one hand towel for an entire night? The horror! Oh, and tonight he had opted for a black silk knee length robe hanging open over red silk boxers with little black hearts all over them.

"Mr. Reint, I understand that you have a problem, but I have to insist that if you are going to be in the hotel lobby, you need to be properly attired. We are a family establishment." Cynthia was trying to say over her howling.

"Honey, trust me, you don't think that I have better things to be doing than standing here letting some little princess like you ogle my package." Reint snapped.

Cynthia merely quirked her eyebrows in disbelief and said a prayer that a hole would open up suddenly in the middle of the lobby and she would be swallowed up into a very large, very quiet black hole.

Lisa chuckled to herself and said a silent thanks that she didn't have to put up with him or others like him anymore. Suddenly, the sofa shifted and she looked up to see Daniel sitting down beside her, a white toothed grin spread widely across his face from ear to ear.

"Hello, princess." He said.

"Daniel." Lisa acknowledged him because it seemed important to do so, then went back to going over her figures. She also tried to ignore the fact that he had just called her the same pet name that Reint had used on Cynthia.

Daniel, desperate for her attention, snatched the charts away from her and set them on his other side. Lisa frowned but turned to him nonetheless. He looked clean and crisp as always in his perfectly tailored Italian cut suit with sharp creases and flawless press. "I have a surprise for you." He said. Didn't he always?

"And what's that?" Lisa asked, really just wanting him to give her back her papers so that she could get some more work done. It seemed like he was popping up with 'surprises' for her every second of every day since day one. At first, she had thought that it was romantic and spontaneous, but at this point, it was just downright irritating. Didn't he know that in order for a surprise to be considered thoughtful, it had to be just every so often and not every other freaking day? She needed to quit complaining. Wouldn't most women be thrilled to find a guy that would dote on them as much as Daniel saw fit to dote on her?

He grinned like a little boy that was about to open a Christmas present as he handed her an envelope. Frustrated, Lisa opened with a roll of her eyes. Yes, she cared very much for Daniel. Yes, she was going to marry him. Yes, she was going to spend the rest of her life with the man…but to be frank, sometimes he just got on her damn nerves. She tore into the envelope and pulled out what appeared to be two plane tickets. Damn it.

"What's this?" she asked.

"It's a trip to Denver." Daniel beamed, "I thought you were due a vacation and I thought a ski trip would do you some good, so I booked the penthouse suite."

"These are for this weekend. Daniel, I have to work." Lisa said.

Daniel held up his hand as though he would hear none of it. "I already arranged some time off for you. Told the head honchos I was worried about you and they want you at your best, so no worries there."

The fact that he had taken it upon himself to call her employers and schedule her some 'time off' rubbed Lisa the wrong way. But, she knew that he had her best interests at heart, so she let it slide.

"Fine." Lisa said and began to reach for her paperwork.

"Though," Daniel continued, "I do have one tiny confession."

Lisa sighed and dropped her hands to her lap, "There always is."

"There, coincidently, does happen to be a small political rally going on at the same hotel that we're staying in."

"Coincidently, huh?" Lisa mocked, her mouth tipping up at the corner as she let the idea of spending her weekend plus a few days rubbing elbows with politicians, smiling and being the charming fiancé of a prospective senator. She would have to schmooze and mingle and…well, it was basically her old job again. Happily, she wouldn't be the one who had to deal with their complaints, but that was a very small bright side when you factor in the fact that she _would _have to be the one to hear about how their child or grandchild is attending some hoity-toity ivy league and doing so well there! At the very least, it would be a convention of old bourbon drinkers so it should be an open bar.

"I really do think that it'll be good for you." Daniel said, breaking her from her thoughts.

"I'm sure it'll be very relaxing…and beneficial." Lisa said, trying with all of her might not to sound like the smartass that she was, "Can I get back to work, now?"

"You're mad." Daniel said.

"I'm not mad."

"You're upset."

"I'm not upset."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes!" Lisa exclaimed, "Daniel, honey, I'm not mad or upset or discouraged or anything. What I am is tired and cranky and I need to get some work done."

Daniel began to pout and Lisa felt as though she had just kicked a puppy. She smiled and captured his face between her hands and kissed him ever-so-softly on the lips before giving him a warm smile.

"I'm sorry, Danny," she said, "I wasn't trying to be a bitch and tomorrow, after a long night of sleep, I will be very excited about the political ski trip."

"You promise?"

"I promise."

He seemed satisfied with that. "Good." He chimed and leaned forward and kissed her on the tip of her nose. "I'll see you at home."

With that, he handed her papers to her and trotted off through the lobby, bidding Cynthia goodbye as he passed her. Lisa took a breath and held one hand to her forehead as though she could ward off the ensuing headache that was rapidly forming. It wasn't Daniel. She was just very tired. Really.

Cynthia appeared at her side. "I don't know how you dealt with people like him and managed to smile the entire time. I wanted to choke him!" She quipped referring to the guest she had just broken away from.

"Most of the time in my head I was envisioning very bad things happening to them." Lisa said.

"He was just such an asshole!" Cynthia exclaimed.

"Cynthia," Lisa chided halfheartedly, "There are no guests who are assholes…"

"I know, I know. Just assholes with special needs."

Lisa couldn't help but laugh at the modified mantra.

"Here." Cynthia added, sitting down in the seat that Daniel had vacated just a moment before and placing a cup of coffee on the table in front of Lisa.

"Oh, God bless you, woman." Lisa said, snatching the cup up greedily and taking a large gulp, enjoying the warm sensation of the hot liquid sliding down her throat. It instantly soothed her frazzled nerves.

"So, what was cutie doing here?" Cynthia asked.

"Daniel?" Lisa asked.

Cynthia gave her a sideways look, "Who else?"

"Right." Lisa said, mentally chastising herself, "Uh, he booked a ski trip for me as a surprise."

"Oh my gosh, that is so sweet." Cynthia cooed, "I think I hate you."

Lisa laughed, "Please don't." Cynthia's reaction made her think once again that something must be wrong with her. Women longed for men like Daniel. Why couldn't she seem to feel that way about him?

Then, a flash in the corner of her eyes. Tall. Lean. Dark hair. Sharp suit. She turned and looked in his direction on bated breath. The young man in question threw his arm around his young female companion and the two of them wandered off toward the elevators together. It wasn't him. She should have known that it wouldn't be him, but part of her still hoped. No! Not hoped! Dreaded. Part of her still dreaded that one day he would return.

"Don't you understand what I'm saying, Blondie!" a customer with very big orange red hair practically screamed at Sonja, the young eighteen year old desk clerk, drawing both Lisa and Cynthia's attention. The poor little girl looked near to tears and Cynthia flew off couch toward the front desk to rescue her. Lisa didn't envy Cynthia for what she knew she had to put up with since she took the managerial position. It was a hectic job that required her to kiss ass all day and smile while she did it. Lisa was glad that now all she had to deal with were the corporate aspects of the hotel business. No more dealing with flooded hotel rooms, whiney over-privileged guests, the possibility that a guided missile would fly into one of the suites that she was responsible for…charming strangers with incredibly blue eyes…

Lisa tried to chase away the confusion she was feeling with another sip of coffee and turned her entire attention back to the report in her lap. That had been her strategy in the beginning and it had pretty much never changed. She just threw herself into her work to ignore the turbulent emotions that threatened to engulf her. It was a nice solid philosophy, if you don't see it, it doesn't exist. It worked. It was part of the reason she had earned her promotion. After throwing herself head first and whole body into the job just after 'the incident', her higher ups had noticed her newly acquired vigor. She had become their greatest asset and they wanted all of their managers to be as sharp and as clever as she was. Hence, the promotion. She focused all of her energy on the work. She didn't think about the future. So much for Grandma Henrietta's philosophy. Lisa spent her days looking up, down, sideways, anywhere…but forward.

It was another three hours before Lisa finally left work. Part of her knew that it was because she was hoping that Daniel would already be asleep when she got home, but she didn't acknowledge that part of herself and what it implied about her relationship. It wasn't that she didn't enjoy it when Daniel stayed over, it certainly held its benefits, but she just really wanted to be by herself tonight. She wanted to sprawl out across her queen size bed and slip into oblivion.

She unlocked her door and paused in the doorframe, listening intently for any sound; any sound whatsoever. When she didn't hear anything, she released a breath that she hadn't realized she had been holding and dropped her keys as quietly as she could onto the small hallway table that sat near the door. Daniel was already asleep. That knowledge brought with it more relief than it probably should have, but she didn't let herself examine that too closely. She didn't examine anything too closely these days. It was too dangerous to do so. She wasn't sure what she might discover if she did, and as previously mentioned, fear was easier. She shrugged out of her overcoat and hung it up neatly in the hall closet before toeing off her high heels and padding soundlessly through the carpeted living room to her bedroom. Daniel was there, spread out over more than what he had claimed as his 'side' of the bed. Lisa felt her jaw involuntarily clench up at the sight of him. She grabbed her favorite blue cotton pajama pants with little cartoon moons and stars all over them from off of the fluffy white chair in the corner of the room and went into the bathroom.

Once she was in there, she washed her face. She washed away the residue of the day along with the blush and mascara. It was really amazing how clean she felt just by cleansing that one area of her body. It was the most refreshing part of her evening routine usually. She changed into her pajama pants and a tank top and secured her hair into a loose low ponytail at the side of her neck before clicking the bathroom light off and returning to the bedroom.

When she slipped into bed, Daniel immediately threw an arm over her waist and pulled her closer to his sleeping form. Lisa really needed her space tonight, but what the hell? Let Daniel have his comfort. She lay there for another two hours before drifting into an uneasy sleep. Tomorrow would be better she told herself. Tomorrow would always be better.

**Author's Note: **Well, that's it for chapter one. I know it's really slow but the first few chapters are mainly going to be expository so just bear with me. Let me know what you think!


	3. Chapter Two: The Plane

**Author's Note: **Thanks to everyone for the reviews. They really mean a lot to me. Here's the next chapter. I hope you all enjoy it!

**Chapter Two: The Plane**

_"And that's not gonna happen…is it?" he said, his breathing labored as his clear eyes bore into hers. _

_"No." She breathed, wanting to cry again but it just seemed like it would take too much energy._

_"Good." He said._

_And then he was on her. His hand clasped her at the small of her neck as his tongue invaded her mouth. She opened up to him, granting him admittance. He pinned her back against the mirror and worked his way between her legs, his hands tangled in the locks of her hair. He used her hair to jerk her head, not gently, to the side and gain access to the tender flesh of her neck. Lisa's fingers dug into his shoulders as she struggled to pull him closer to her. _

_"Jackson…" she breathed. _

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The rest of Lisa's week went pretty much the same as always, except no calls from corporate to let her know that she needed to hop on a plane and fix something somewhere. Of course, they were giving her 'her much needed time off'.

She stood leaning against the front counter in the lobby of the Lux while Cynthia argued with some drycleaner's place over the phone. In approximately ten hours, she would be on a plane winging her way across the country to go skiing and hobnobbing with politicians from all over the damn place. In fact, at that exact moment, Daniel was at her apartment, considerately packing her bags for her so she could put in the few extra hours of work that she had claimed that she needed. She had pretty much had nothing to do for at least an hour and a half now.

As she stood there, her mind wandered back to the events of that morning and her dream from the previous night. It was the same as all of the others, really, and just like all the others, it had felt unbelievably real. She had woken up, covered in sweat and breathing hard. Daniel had thought that she had had a nightmare, and she hadn't corrected him. Why start an argument?

Why should she think about him so much? He had terrorized her, threatened her father's life, her own life, and nearly followed through with those threats! But it was those few moments in that damned bathroom that haunted her. It was those moments that hadn't let her go one day without thinking that she had seen him somewhere. Those moments wouldn't let her go one night without dreaming about him. Those moments just wouldn't let her go. Period.

Daniel had given her arm a squeeze, as if it were going to chase the big bad nightmares away. Lisa had shrugged him off as delicately as she could and gotten up to head for the bathroom, visions of blue still flashing through her mind. After slipping into a black pinstriped pants suit with a fitted jacket cut perfectly to her small frame, she had left the house, mumbling an adequate goodbye to Daniel as she went.

Now, she shook herself out of her daydreams and turned to Cynthia just as she was hanging up the phone.

"People bother me, Leese." Cynthia said, running the tips of her fingers against her temples.

Lisa smiled.

"What are you still doing here?" Cynthia asked, "Shouldn't you be home packing for your romantic ski getaway?"

"Romantic _political _ski getaway." Lisa corrected.

"Semantics." Cynthia said with a flutter of her hand as though she could push that part of it away.

"Didn't I tell you?" Lisa said, widening her eyes for effect, "Daniel is at home packing for me."

Cynthia whimpered, "Okay, now I really do hate you."

Lisa laughed as she walked over to the table against the wall which held a steaming coffee pot and poured herself and Cynthia a cup, adding sugar and cream to their particular tastes. She returned to the counter with two cups of coffee and set Cynthia's down in front of her.

"Thanks." Cynthia said as she entered something into the computer, "But, seriously, what are you doing here with me when you should be at home thanking that beautiful man in the naughty way?"

Lisa took a sip of her coffee, more to avoid answering the question than because she wanted some at the moment. How could she explain to Cynthia what she didn't even understand herself? Cynthia was quick to pick up on what she was doing, though. One of the drawbacks of having worked together and being friends for so long.

"Leese, are you okay?" Cynthia asked.

Lisa looked to her with large helpless eyes. Could she confide in her that she felt like she was drowning in a relationship with a man that everyone seemed to love and think was perfect for her in every single way? In that moment, as if beckoned, Daniel came swaggering up to her side with a dimpled grin on his face.

"Hey, beautiful." He said.

Lisa turned to him, her eyes widening in surprise. "Hey! I thought you were packing."

"We're packed!" Daniel said, "And I, knowing what a little workaholic you are, decided that I should come and collect you so that I can make sure you're well rested for the trip tomorrow."

Lisa nodded and looked away from him, her lips drawn into a tight line. Cynthia stared at her with concern etched on her pretty face. "Leese?" she asked.

"I'm fine." Lisa said to Cynthia, "I'm fine." She turned back to Daniel, "Uh, just let me grab my things and, uh, we'll go home."

"Great." He said, his smile never faltering as he never picked up on anything that was going on between the two girls. Lisa disappeared through a door, leaving Cynthia staring after her curiously. When Lisa reemerged, she had her overcoat on her shoulders and a smile on her face.

She touched Cynthia's arm as she walked past her, "I'll see you in a few days."

Cynthia nodded, "Call me." She managed to say so much with just those two words and Lisa felt a little better because of it. Something told her that when she got back from Denver, she would be able to talk to Cynthia about everything that had been bothering her, and she wouldn't judge her for any of it. That was an amazing and liberating feeling.

When they got home, two large suitcases and one small carryon bag sat beside her apartment door. Lisa stifled a sigh and headed straight for the bathroom as Daniel flopped down on the sofa and turned on the television. She turned the shower on and kicked off her shoes and peeled off her suit and climbed into the tub. The water was hot, almost scalding in fact. Lisa relished in the way it beat into her shoulders, massaging the numerous tension knots that had formed; soothing her tight muscles.

Then, she heard the faint knock at the door, which she had locked.

"Hey, sweetheart," Daniel cooed from the other side, "You want some company?"

Lisa leaned her forehead against the bathtub tile and closed her eyes. How to answer him without hurting his feelings? "Not tonight, Danny." She said, "I'm beat."

"You work too hard." Came the reply.

"Maybe."

"You know, once we're married, you won't have to keep working."

"We've talked about this, Danny."

"I know you love your job, honey, but…"

"But nothing. We've already had this conversation." She said, her jaw tightening against her will. It wasn't even that she loved her job. There were some days she didn't like it; some days she even hated it. But, it was hers. It was her source of independence and she didn't want him to take that away from her. And right now, she didn't want to have the same old argument that they had had a million times before. She had had a very long day. Couldn't she simply have one moment of peace? Just one moment to herself, that was all she was asking. Her prayers were answered as she heard Daniel scuttling away from the door, no doubt a dejected look on his face. She didn't mean to be so cruel to him, she really didn't. She leaned her back against the tiled wall and slid down to the bottom of the tub, her knees drawn up to her chest. Her fingers absently touched the scar on her chest, and the image that immediately flashed through her mind was not that of the sweaty, disgusting man with a knife. No. It was of those striking blue eyes. Why wouldn't he leave her thoughts? It had been two years! Why couldn't she just move on? But, it wasn't just that she couldn't get past a traumatic event…no, that would have been much simpler. It was that when she thought of him, it was more like she was thinking of an old lover. Those few minutes in that damned bathroom had been more intimate than anything that she could remember in her life. She pushed those thoughts away and climbed to her feet to finish up with her shower.

She went straight from the bathroom to the bed, curled up on her 'side' of it and slipped the light switch. Soon enough, she was asleep. She didn't even notice it when Daniel crawled into bed beside her.

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_Hands. Lips. Tongues. Teeth. Blue eyes. Bruises. Flashes of skin. The sweet smell of subtle aftershave. Murmured words._

_"Wake up, baby." _

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Lisa woke up to Daniel shaking her gently by the shoulder. "C'mon, baby, wake up." He said, "We gotta go."

Lisa looked up at him and gave him a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. She sat up and rubbed both hands over her face, trying to wipe away the lingering images of her lustful dream before kicking the covers off of her legs and getting out of bed. She washed her face, then put on some light makeup before slipping into a black knee length skirt and light blue sweater. She stepped into her most comfortable heels and went to the kitchen where Daniel had a mug of hot coffee ready and waiting for her. She took the cup from his hand and smiled at him. A genuine smile. One that reached her eyes.

"Thank you." She said.

He kissed her temple as he walked by her. "I'm gonna put the bags in the car. You finish your coffee, then we'll go. Sound good?"

"Sounds great." She said offering him her face. He smiled and kissed her lips before making for the door. She watched him carry her luggage through the door from her spot at the counter and remembered why it was that she had gone out with him more than once. He really was a sweet man. She was just being silly and letting the little things get to her that really shouldn't. She was living in the past thinking about someone that would never exist, and more than likely never had. Well, she wasn't going to do it anymore. She decided right then and there that she was going to return to her Grandmother's motto while she was still young enough for it to make a difference. She was going to stop living in her head and start looking forward. Even if it killed her.

Okay. Bad choice of words.

Even if it annoyed her!

Much better.

She downed the rest of her coffee and headed out the door. She met Daniel at the elevator and threw her arms around his neck, kissing him fiercely on the mouth. "Thanks for the trip." She said.

Daniel grinned at her. "No problem."

Around an hour later, they were standing in the check-in line at the airport, waiting for their turn. Lisa rested her head on Daniel's shoulder and whined. She hated waiting at the airport. Point of fact, she hated airports in general. Chalk it up to a bad experience and leave it at that.

They had been met at the airport by Daniel's personal security. As a multimillionaire with political aspirations, he felt it necessary to surround himself with a gaggle of secret service wannabe types, the leader of which was a very tall (Lisa was willing to bet that he cleared seven feet easy) blond haired steroid freak named Jake. He was ex military and looked like a boxer who had had his nose broken a few too many times. He was backed up by two lackeys who called themselves, no joke, Butch and Blade. It was hilarious to hear Daniel address them. It sounded more like he was talking to a set of Doberman pinchers as opposed to two actual human beings. They would be flying discreetly in the coach section. Yeah, because in their bad black suits, shades, and earpieces, who would ever notice them?

Someone bumped into Lisa from behind and she turned around at the sudden contact. Her breath caught in her lungs. Blue eyes. Cocky smirk.

"Jackson." Lisa breathed.

"Excuse me?" the young man said and Daniel turned around.

Lisa blinked and reassessed the man who stood behind her in line. His eyes weren't blue. They were brown. He stared at her now, confusion evident on his young handsome face. "Um, my name's not Jackson, ma'am. Sorry."

"Sorry, I, uh, I thought you were someone else." Lisa said and turned away, closing her eyes and mentally chiding herself for being so stupid.

Daniel nodded to the man behind him and turned to face Lisa. "Who's Jackson?" He asked.

Lisa looked up at him and hesitated a beat too long. "Just an old friend that I haven't seen in a very long time." She answered, praying that he would accept the answer and not pick up on her discomfort. Daniel nodded in response and Lisa let out a shallow breath that she had been holding. An old friend. That was an interesting perspective of what Jackson Rippner had been to her. Way to look forward, Leese, she told herself, squeezing the bridge of her nose between her thumb and index finger. She didn't say another word until they were on the plane. As Daniel guided her to their first class seats, she found herself looking back into the coach section. She blinked her thoughts away and took her seat, smiling up at her fiancé. Looking forward. Definitely what she was doing from now on. Daniel got settled in his seat and Lisa grabbed his arm with a big, bright smile on her face. "Let's get some champagne!" she said.

Daniel chuckled, "Anything you want, sweetheart."

Lisa nodded. When in doubt, have a drink!

Halfway through the flight, the movie _King Kong_, and a hell of a lot of champagne later, Lisa had to use the bathroom. She laughingly left Daniel's side, who was laughing as well, and stumbled for the plane lavatory. She shut the door and dropped onto the closed toilet, still giggling. She couldn't seem to stop her laughter. Then, she looked up at the mirror and her laughter faded away. She rose unsteadily to her feet and looked into the reflective piece of glass in front of her.

_"And that's not gonna happen…is it?"_

"No." She said aloud, and she was once again in that tiny bathroom with his hand on her face, tears quickly building up in her eyes.

_"Good. Because I'm gonna tell you the phones are working again. Are you sure we've got a deal this time? Huh?"_

"Yes." She said, but there was so much more that she wanted to say to him. She wanted to scream and shout at him. She wanted to pound her fists against his chest and ask him why he had to invade her every thought. She wanted to know why he wasn't there so she could really get some answers from him. Why had he come into her world and then just…vanished?

_"Peachy."_

She watched him in her mind as he stood and straightened his clothing. She remembered the exact movements he had made; she had watched the scene so many times before. It was embedded in her memory.

_"Well, thanks for the quickie." _

Lisa opened the bathroom door expectantly and froze where she stood. He wasn't there. She wiped the single tear from her cheek and headed back to her seat, not even realizing that she hadn't even used the bathroom. Daniel looked up, still chuckling from their earlier laugh session when he looked up at her and saw her solemn looking face.

"Hey," he said, his laughter dying, "are you okay?"

Lisa immediately plastered on the smile that used to be reserved for guests like the Hugh Heffner wannabe and said, "Yeah."

"Are you sure?" he asked.

The smile tightened. "Very." She said, struggling very hard to keep her voice level. She sat back down and looked at him, still smiling. A little voice in the back of her mind mentioned how she had to look sideways and not forward to look at him, and another voice told it to shut the hell up. Lisa ignored them both, telling herself that it wasn't necessarily a good thing to be hearing voices anyway. So, she opted to smile, sideways, at her fiancé and pour herself another glass of champagne.

When they finally landed in Denver, it seemed to take forever for them to get their bags at the baggage claim and Lisa was really starting to feel those three bottles of champagne…or was it four? She couldn't remember. All she knew was that her head was spinning and she really wanted to lie down. Daniel grabbed their bags off the conveyer belt like the good little boyfriend that he was and lugged them out to the car that he had waiting to take them to the hotel. It was a limousine of course, but Lisa didn't even glance at the complimentary bottle of champagne cradled in the ice bucket.

They pulled up in front of the hotel and Lisa inwardly groaned. They would be staying at a Hilton. They got out of the car and a bellhop was immediately at their side to carry in their luggage. Daniel escorted Lisa to the sofa that she plopped down on before going to check them in. She smiled at Daniel's back as he went to the check in counter, Butch, Blade, and Jake trailing after him. Then, something in her peripheral vision caught her attention.

The slender form clad in an expensive looking suit walking with that cocky confident strut. It was him. It had to be him. If only his back wasn't to her and she could tell. She pushed herself up off the couch and started to walk toward him. What was she doing? If that really was _him_, then she should be running in the other direction, not strolling toward him trying to catch up. But, at that exact moment, a tall thin woman with legs that seemed to go on forever and flawless ebony skin pushed away from the wall and went to his side, his arm going automatically around her waist. Lisa stopped in her tracks. It wasn't him.

"Hey!"

Daniel's voice broke her from her thoughts as he put a hand on her shoulder and kissed her head.

"What are you doing over here?" he asked.

"I just, uh, didn't feel like sitting." She replied, taking one more glance in the man's direction. He and his lady were already gone. She looked back to Daniel and smiled. "We checked in?"

"Yep." Daniel grinned, "And you have three hours to rest before we have to be at dinner."

"We have a dinner tonight? We just got here?"

"Sweetie…"

"Okay, okay." Lisa said, holding up her hand. She didn't want to hear him whining about how it was all for his political career and how the end always justified the means. She didn't think that she could stand it at the moment.

"So," Daniel said, offering her own key to her, "we have access to pretty much everything in the hotel. Only, stay off of the 28th floor."

"Why?" Lisa asked.

"Apparently, they're remodeling or something. I don't know, the girl at the counter just said that it was under some pretty heavy construction and too dangerous for guests."

"Okay." Lisa said, then smiled at him as brightly as she could muster, "Where's the spa?"

Daniel laughed and threw his arm across her shoulders. "There's my girl."

They made their way to the elevators with Daniel's three goons at their heels.

**Author's Note: **That's it for chapter two. Still slow, I know. Just bear with me a little bit longer… and let me know what you think!


	4. Chapter Three: Denver

**Author's Note: **Thanks again to everybody for the reviews! I promise that Jackson will be arriving very soon. Just bear with me. And, as always, let me know what you think.

**Chapter Three: Denver**

To say that their hotel room was huge and beautiful would have been the understatement of the century. Lisa walked through the door and on her immediate left was a full size kitchen and a coat closet on her right. Directly in front of her was the living room which included a full entertainment system complete with television, stereo, DVD player, the works, as well as a plush white sofa and two matching chairs. Past that were two stairs leading up to the bedroom which was separated from the rest of the suite by two mirrored French doors. The bedroom had a king sized bed, two full bureaus, a writing desk and a vanity dresser both complete with chairs. Not including the entrance, there were three doors, two of which were walk-in closets and the last lead to the bathroom. The bathroom had a garden tub, standing shower, toilet (obviously), and his and hers sinks.

Lisa crawled onto the bed and collapsed. The mattress was hard. She didn't care. She wanted nothing more than to sleep for the rest of the trip. Hell, she wanted to sleep for the rest of the year.

"Okay, angel," Daniel chimed as he tipped the bellman a twenty and ushered him out the door, "you rest up and I'll be back to get you for dinner in just under three hours. I have to go and press palms with the stuffy old politicos downstairs."

Press palms, Lisa thought to herself, who says that?

Daniel checked himself in the vanity mirror, smoothed out his jacket, tightened the knot of his tie, blew her a kiss and shuffled out of the bedroom and then the suite. Lisa let out a sigh of relief. Alone at last! It was a horrible thing to think about your fiancé, but there you go. Maybe she could catch a little bit of sleep before she had to go downstairs and be witty and charming to a bunch of old guys that she had absolutely nothing in common with. Being the bride-to-be of a political candidate was exhausting work. She needed rest.

A half hour later, she was still lying awake in the bed and could not for the life of her, fall asleep. She had a feeling that it had to do with the fact that she knew that if she fell asleep she would dream about him, and not in a nightmarish sort of way. No, it was probably better if she just stayed awake and continued to ignore and suppress all of those unnatural feelings that kept bubbling up to the surface. Her eyes fluttered closed and she caught the phantom smell of his cologne.

She let out a frustrated groan and pushed herself up out of bed and made her way into the gargantuan bathroom. A shower would clear her mind, she was certain. She needed to start getting ready for dinner anyway. She dug through her bag in search of her personal toiletries while the shower water was heating up. After showering and lotioning, she dried and curled her hair and put it up in a French twist, leaving a few soft tendrils trailing around her neck and shoulders. She painted her face on and sprayed perfume on her neck just below her ears, on her wrists, and on the back of her knees. Then, she went back to her bags and pulled out several of the dresses that she had brought with her, deciding finally on a short black backless cocktail dress that made her legs look long and amazing. The straps wrapped up around her neck and covered her nasty little secret.

Daniel came waltzing into the room just as she was slipping into her new favorite black strap Gucci high heels. Present from Daniel. Okay, so maybe dating a wealthy politician did have its advantages.

"My God," he said, dimpled grin firmly in place, "look at you. You are a vision."

Lisa smiled appreciatively at the compliment and rewarded Daniel for it by giving him a small twirl and pose. He quickly changed into a tuxedo and Lisa took a moment to think about the unfairness that men could take so little time to get ready when women had to go through so much primping and preparation. As he was tying his bowtie, he gave her another once over.

"Are you sure you don't want to wear the white dress I bought for you?" he said.

Lisa looked at him, "What's wrong with what I'm wearing? You…you just said that I was a vision."

"Oh, you are angel." He said, "You're always a vision. I just think that the dress that I bought you might just be better."

"You really want me to change?" Lisa asked.

"Honey, I don't want you to do anything that you don't want to do…but wouldn't you feel more comfortable in the white dress? It's a little more conservative and these are conservative people."

Lisa touched the hem of her dress self-consciously. Ten seconds ago, she had felt like she looked great, now…she wasn't so sure. What the hell was she thinking? She straightened her shoulders and narrowed her eyes at Daniel. She looked good in this dress. She _felt _good in this dress and by God, she was going to wear this dress.

"No, that's okay." She said, "I feel comfortable in the one."

"You sure?" Daniel asked.

"Oh, I'm positive." Lisa said, holding back the string of obscenities that she really wanted to unleash on him when he asked her is she was 'sure'.

"Okay." He said, smiling. He buttoned his tuxedo jacket and offered her his arm. She slipped her arm through his and let him escort her from the room to the elevator, pushing down the rush of irritation that had bubbled up inside of her. It was just a little thing and not worth getting into an argument over. He was just trying to tell her how to dress. Ass. No! It was time for her to be the doting, charming fiancé now.

The elevator doors opened with the ring of a bell and Daniel guided her through the lobby to the large ball room where the evening's banquet was being held. She felt the instant tension and stiffness as they were immediately set upon by a swell of sixty something year olds who smelled strongly of too much cologne. Lisa smiled and shook hands and nodded in all the appropriate places, but caught herself several times glancing longingly at the exit. She was so tired of people pleasing, but it was what she did best. It was what made her so damn good at her job. That didn't make it any less exhausting. She was standing there by Daniel's side, debating whether or not to tell the ex senator from Nevada what she really thought of him when…

Suddenly, as though a blessing from God, a waitress appeared at her side with a trey of champagne glasses. The Tyra Banks look alike must have been six feet tall and slim and even managed to make the plain white and black waitress uniform look like something fit for a New York runway. At barely 5'7 with three inch heels on, Lisa suddenly felt slightly inferior. The complex faded as soon as the waitress lowered her trey in offering.

"Champagne?" she asked.

"Got anything stronger?" Lisa responded.

That earned her a laugh. "Well, what did you have in mind?"

"Anything with vodka."

"Bar doesn't open for another two hours."

"Damn it." Lisa said quietly, sharing a smile with the waitress as she took a glass from the trey, "Keep 'em coming."

"Sure thing." The waitress laughed before walking away to continue with her rounds. After taking a sip of her drink, Lisa took a second to admire the ball room. It was actually quite lovely. It was filled with circular tables that were draped with white linen tablecloths, each containing a center piece of elegant white roses. There was a platform at the front of the room with the podium in between two long tables. Lisa assumed that that was where the toasts and speeches would be made later on after dinner. She took another drink and braced herself for what was sure to be a long night.

Her eyes sought out the lovely waitress again as the girl sauntered through the crowd, flirting and passing out glasses of champagne, but never lingering in one place for too long. Lisa envied her. Sure, she had to smile and deal with the same pompous assholes that Lisa had to put up with, but at least she didn't have to stand there and make polite conversation with them. She got to hand them their drinks, flash a smile and walk away. Lisa on the other hand had to endure their company for the rest of the night and she really didn't want to. The waitress met her gaze and winked at her, causing Lisa to blush that she had been caught staring and avert her eyes.

She instead took to looking about the room and figuring that if you took all of these old fogies and what they spent in campaign costs and put it together, you could probably feed a third world country for a year.

"Ah, Claustine." Daniel said loudly, interrupting Lisa's train of thought. "Lisa," he continued, taking her by the arm and gesturing to the smiling man holding a champagne glass that was standing in front of them. "meet Doug Claustine."

Lisa looked at the man, offered him her hand and a smile. "It's a pleasure Mr. Claustine." She said.

"Pleasure's mine, dear." He said, shaking her hand with his free one. He was a tall kindly looking man, probably in his mid fifties. He possessed a certain air of intelligence and authority that Lisa had found to be a rare attribute. In fact, only one other man that she had ever met had given her such an impression. He wore the standard black tuxedo, but he had a white bowtie and managed to make it appear elegant as opposed to smug. His hair had once upon a time been very dark black, but now with time and age was salted with gray. After shaking Lisa's hand, he draped his arm around a woman standing to his left. "This is my wife, Ellen."

Ellen Claustine was taller than Lisa, though not by much and she, like her husband, just seemed so very sophisticated. She wore a sparkly pink dress that fell just below her knees with a white cropped jacket that also sparkled over the top of it. Her ashen hair was cut into a bob, her bangs slanted ever so slightly and she had one of the warmest smiles that Lisa had ever seen on a woman that she was not related to.

"Pleasure to meet you, dear." The older woman said, "What a lovely dress."

"Thank you." Lisa said, trying her damnedest to keep from giving Daniel a smug look.

"Claustine here is the primary opposition for my office, sweetheart." Daniel said.

"Uh-oh." Lisa said, smiling.

Claustine chuckled deep in his throat while Ellen gave her another warm, genuine smile, sending through Lisa the sudden urge to hug her. "I think your fiancé gives me too much credit by calling me his primary opposition."

"Don't let him fool you," Daniel said without taking his eyes off of Claustine, "he's leading in the polls right now."

"By a small percentage." Claustine countered.

Daniel grinned, "Nonetheless."

"Well," Lisa interjected, deciding to play up the innocent naivety and break the tension that had just clouded around them, "can't you both be senator? I mean, there are two per state."

She was met by momentary silence, then Claustine burst into a horse laugh. He clapped Daniel on the shoulder, "She is sweet, Davis! I like her."

"Yeah, I do, too." Daniel said, kissing her on the temple and smiling at Claustine.

"Oh," Claustine went on as Ellen slipped her arm through his proffered one, "Let's not talk about business tonight. We'll get into all of that tomorrow soon enough. Let's just enjoy the evening."

"I couldn't have said that better myself." Ellen added to her husband's suggestion.

Lisa decided that she liked them. Maybe the evening would be bearable after all. That was what she was thinking before Daniel took her to introduce her to Anthony Patoleski, the senatorial candidate from New York City who looked like he just stepped out of _Good Fellas_. He was clad in a shiny black tuxedo. No, really, it was _shiny_. His jet black hair was slicked back with what Lisa could only assume was axel grease and he tended to talk out of the side of this mouth and use really bug hand gestures. He struck Lisa as the kind of cretin that left a long pathway of sludge trailing along behind in his footsteps. He kept touching her on the lower back, winking, and calling her 'babe' and 'doll'. He did all of this in front of his bottle blonde, surgically enhanced wife, Brenda. That was okay though, because Brenda wasn't exactly the brightest bulb in the box. She kept looking at her reflection in her champagne glass and touching the tip of her nose. Recent nose job? More than likely. A young waiter with cropped brown hair and pretty green eyes appeared beside her with a champagne trey and Lisa switched out her empty glass for a full one.

"Is the bar open, yet?" she whispered, leaning in close to the young man.

He grinned at her.

"I'm totally serious." She said.

The cute little waiter chuckled and walked off, leaving Lisa staring into her bubbly glass of champagne. When they were finally seated for dinner, Lisa was torn between listening to Daniel and the three other politicians at the table discuss polls and bills and legislative propositions or the other side of the table which was occupied by their wives who were currently discussing the fact that you could now purchase voodoo spells over the internet. It was just Lisa's luck that Doug and Ellen Claustine had been seated at a table on the far side of the room and weren't ever on hand for decent conversation. She blew out a breath and took another sip of her very, very strong seabreeze. Thank God the bar finally opened.

"It was just a little success and power spell. I don't really believe in all that stuff, but if it works and Nathan gets elected, it'll be the best $29.95 I ever spent." One of the women was saying to the giggling other two.

You have got to be kidding me, Lisa thought to herself as she cut off a bite of her grilled lemon pepper chicken. Daniel leaned back in his chair with a sigh and rested his hand possessively on the back of Lisa's neck.

"That's ridiculous!" he said to the man on his immediate right. Lisa couldn't remember his name, "You know as well as I do that that will never make it past congress, if it even makes it that far!"

At that point, Lisa had seriously begun to consider clawing her own eyes out and running from the room screaming. It seemed a more appealing option than sitting at that table for five more minutes. She downed the rest of her drink and turned to Daniel, tapping him on the thigh to get his attention.

"Danny, I'm gonna go get another drink." She said when he turned to face her. He nodded, barely acknowledging her, before he turned back to his own, apparently more interesting conversation.

Lisa climbed out of her seat and made her way to the back of the room where the bar was set up. She was met by Ellen Claustine when she got there.

"Are you defecting, too?" Ellen asked taking a sip of her dark rich looking drink.

Lisa nodded, "Can't handle much more voodoo talk from the ladies at my table?"

"Sorry, voodoo?" Ellen repeated with a raise of her perfectly arched eyebrows.

"Oh, yeah," Lisa grinned, "apparently you can buy a power spell for the low, low price of thirty bucks."

Ellen laughed, "Maybe I should look into that." The bartender appeared, "What'll you have?"

"A seabreeze." Lisa said and the bartender disappeared to make her drink, "How are things at your table?"

"Oh goodness," Ellen said, lighting a cigarette, "Doug and his old friend from Stanford, Ethan have been talking about cricket since we sat down."

"I never really understood cricket."

"Oh, sweetie, I've been watching the sport for twenty years and I still don't understand it."

The bartender set Lisa's drink down in front of her and gave her a flirty wink and smile when she thanked him. She took a sip and then rubbed a hand over a tension knot in her shoulder. "How do you handle this?" Lisa asked.

"Handle what?" Ellen countered.

"All of this political schmoozing, mingling, elbow rubbing that goes on."

Ellen laughed, "You will get used to it."

"So, tell me truthfully," Lisa started, "are there a lot of these dinners every year?" Though, she already knew the answer. The Lux had housed a dozen or so of these gatherings every year for pretty much every political party. Apparently, nothing pleased these people more than getting together to compare approval ratings.

Ellen just smiled and patted Lisa's hand; and Lisa groaned.

Ellen took a long pull on her cigarette and said, "You know, the usual. Dinners, banquets, speeches, rallies, charities, name it. Conventions…"

"Oh, even the thought of it is giving me a headache." Lisa said.

"Sweetie, your dress." Ellen said, her gaze zeroing in on the hem of Lisa's cocktail dress.

Lisa looked down and saw a large yellowish white spot on her thigh. "Oh, no." she said as she began rubbing her thumb over it aggressively. "What is that?"

Ellen knelt down to get a closer look at it and scraped one long fingernail over the stain. It reminded Lisa of something that her mother might do in the same situation.

"I don't know." Ellen said, straightening once again. She stood back and surveyed the damage. "Such a pretty dress, too."

"What should I do?" Lisa asked.

"Well," Ellen was thoughtful, "Some club soda might take it out."

"But then I'll be walking around with a giant wet spot."

"You're right." Ellen said as her eyes began traveling the room. Suddenly, she nodded her head to herself and then turned to her, "Okay, you have around twenty to thirty minutes before the speeches and toasts begin. Run upstairs, clean it up, club soda, hair dryer, all that…then get back down here."

"How do you know how long I have?"

"Twenty years, sweetie."

"Oh, yeah. Are you sure about this?"

"Nobody will even notice that you're gone."

"Okay, thanks." Lisa said, grabbing her seabreeze, "I am so taking this with me."

"I don't blame you." Ellen chuckled, downing her own drink and signaling the bartender for another.

With a final wink to Ellen, Lisa slipped through the double doors and headed for the elevator. She pushed the button, hoping that the damn thing wouldn't take forever. A minute later, the doors opened and she was rushed by a group of five teenagers all clad in snow gear, laughing and slapping each other around. One of them bumped into Lisa and staggered backwards before lowering his snowboarding glasses and letting his eyes rove over the length of her.

"Sorry about that, peaches." He said.

Peaches? Lisa thought. "It's fine." She said.

"Why don't you let me buy you another drink to make up for it?" he said.

Lisa blinked at him. Was he serious? He bumped into her, called her a fruit, and then expected her to want to have a drink and an entire conversation with him. Her prayers had been answered! The world made sense again! Just then another one of them jumped on the fruit guy's back and grinned her.

"Weasel, man!" the second one exclaimed.

The only thing going through Lisa's mind at that moment was, Weasel?

"Leave the poor girl alone! You already slammed into her, don't traumatize her with your lame attempts at come on's as well!" he continued, "Let's hit the slopes!"

"Rock on!" A third one chimed in, making Lisa jump slightly, "Night slopes!"

With a loud uproar from the entire crew, the little band of miscreants stampeded through the lobby. Once they had dispersed, Lisa practically lunged into the elevator and hit the 'close doors' button. She did not want company for her ride and she sure as hell didn't want to share her elevator with another group like that one. She was sick of people and ten minutes without anyone would be a blessing. She sighed and leaned back against the hand rail that ran along the length of the back wall, taking another sip of her seabreeze. The elevator stopped with a ding and the doors opened to let on another passenger. Lisa lowered her glass and felt her heart stop when the two doors slid open. She struggled to get the last sip of alcohol to slide down her tightened throat.

Widened clear blue eyes, full pretty lips slightly parted in what appeared to be shock, dark hair falling into those gorgeous eyes. High cheekbones that any woman would kill for. Lean, tall, confident. Jackson Rippner was standing in front of her! He blinked and said one word.

"Lisa?"

**Author's Note: **Well, that's it for this chapter. Jackson has arrived! Be sure to tell me what you think.


	5. Chapter Four: Jackson

**Author's Note: **Thank you all so much for the reviews! Sorry about the long wait. I just had my wisdom teeth cut out and the medication made it kind of hard to concentrate. But, here's the next chapter. Hope you all like it. Let me know!

**Chapter Four: Jackson**

There was only one word that went through Lisa's mind at that moment and it began with an F. She kicked herself out of shock and back into gear, attempting to lunge to Jackson's side to get past him, screaming for help as she went. He was too quick though. He caught her around the waist with one arm and covered her mouth with his other hand, silencing her. Then, he dove into the closing elevator, taking Lisa with him. She kept screaming into the palm of his hands as she watched the doors close. Jackson pinned her to the back wall and pressed himself against the length of her body. Lisa threw what was left of her drink in his face and then hit him in the side of the head with the empty glass. She was slightly disappointed when it didn't break on impact. Damn movies. Jackson stumbled to the side slightly and lost his grip on her waist, which she took advantage of and shoved him as hard as she could into the far wall. She went to push the emergency stop button, but Jackson's hand closed around her wrist and he pulled her away from the panel. She turned to swing at him again, but he blocked her wrist and she lost her grip on the glass. It fell and shattered into a million pieces as soon as it hit the floor. Lisa actually paused for a moment and thought to herself, it figures. Jackson shoved Lisa to her knees and into the corner, then pushed a floor number and looked down at her.

Lisa looked up at him and then away, closing her eyes. She wrapped her arms around her legs, curled into the fetal position. This was not happening. This was not happening. There was no way in hell that Jackson Rippner was really standing there, staring at her. She opened her eyes and looked up. Sure enough, there he was…standing there…staring at her…with those breathtaking eyes of his. Interestingly, what came to her mind were her dreams. The reality of the situation was a little different than what she had dreamt about. It was much scarier.

Lisa stared up at him now, her dream, her nightmare, her fantasy; standing there in all his glory. Jackson leaned back against the wall farthest from her, ran both hands back through his hair and blew out a deep breath. He looked pretty much the same. His hair had grown out, just a little. He was dressed in a dark suit with a light blue shirt unbuttoned at the collar. He wore no tie, but then he didn't seem like the tie type. Lisa felt the tears welling up behind her eyes but fought hard not to let them fall.

"What do you want?" She asked.

Jackson's eyes focused on her then, like he hadn't really been looking at her but lost in his own thoughts. "Awe, Leese," he chimed, mocking smile that Lisa remembered all too well firmly on his lips, "can't an old friend just pop up to say hi?"

Lisa glared at him and then grabbed the hand rail and pulled herself to her feet. She couldn't bear to have him looking down at her anymore than their height difference allowed. She may have been standing unsteadily, but at least she was standing. Jackson smiled again and shoved his hands in his pockets. Lisa watched as his eyes traveled down her body and then back up to her eyes and he let out a low whistle. "Damn, Leese." He said, "Did you get all dressed up just for me? Cause I gotta tell you, I like it."

Without her bidding them to, her hands grasped the hem of her dressed and tugged. She could see amusement dancing in his eyes; amusement at her expense. Her fear was suddenly replaced by searing anger.

Interrupting her thoughts, the elevator stopped and the doors dinged open. Lisa and Jackson locked gazes before Lisa bolted through the doors with Jackson nipping at her heels.

"Help me!" she cried just as Jackson grabbed her from behind and slung her sideways into the wall.

She bounced off the wall and hit the ground as Jackson trotted three steps past her before stopping and turned back around. Lisa looked up at him before scrambling backwards with her hands. The first door she reached, she jumped to her knees and began pounding on it with her fists.

"Please, help me!" she shouted.

Jackson smoothed out his jacket as he walked ever so calmly up behind her, tangled his hand in her hair and jerked her to her feet. He spun her to face him and then slammed her back hard against the door, covering her mouth once again with his hand as he did so. Lisa pushed on his shoulders trying to get him at arms length, but it was pretty much in vain. Soon enough, he was pressed completely against her; thigh to thigh, stomach to stomach, chest to chest. He cradled to back of her head with one hand while keeping the other securely over her lips.

"Shh." He muttered, his eyes boring into hers as he listened for any movement from within the hotel room. When he didn't hear anything, he beamed at Lisa, "Looks like you picked an empty one, Leese. Sorry, better luck next time."

Lisa whimpered against his hand and closed her eyes as a single tear slid down her cheek. Then, without warning, she brought her knee up hard, right into his groin. One loud grunt and Jackson dropped gasping to his knees. She got maybe two steps away before his hand shot out and caught her ankle and she went down, barely getting her hands up in time to keep her head from smacking into the ground and knocking her unconscious. Lisa kicked at him with her free leg, but he caught that ankle as well, saving himself from a high heeled pump in the face. He growled at her through clenched teeth as he began to crawl his way up her body, and considering she was on her stomach there wasn't a lot that she could do to stop him. He grabbed her upper arms and held them to her sides, leaning down so that his mouth was right beside her ear.

"That seemed a bit uncalled for." He said, his lips brushing against her temple.

Lisa took a breath and told herself that she was not enjoying the feel of his lips against her skin. A shutter ran through her entire body, but she shook it off and braced herself for what she was about to do. This was gonna hurt. She closed her eyes, clenched her jaw, and threw her head back, connecting solidly with his face. She then shifted all of her weight onto her side, throwing Jackson off of her. She stumbled to her feet just as Jackson flipped up onto his own feet and came after her. He caught her by the shoulders and pulled her to a stop just short of the elevator. He slung her around and moved his hands to grasp her by both sides of her head. Lisa clutched at both of his wrists and stared up into his angry eyes. The next thing she knew, she felt the hard impact of her head hitting against the wall and her world went black.

Jackson jerked Lisa sideways, knocking the side of her head into the wall and she collapsed against him, her body going completely limp as she lost consciousness. He just stood there for what must have been an entire minute, and for Jackson, that was a pretty long damn time. He couldn't believe it. After two years, Lisa Reisert was right in front of him, insensible as she may be, she was still there. He supported her weight with one arm around her waist and used his other hand to brush a rope of auburn hair that had come loose from her twist back behind her ear. He relished in the silky soft feel of it. Her skin was just as soft as he had remembered; her scent just as sweet. Now, the real question ran through his head. He had her. Yay him. Now what in the hell was he going to do with her?

He kept the one arm around her waist and then scooped her legs up with the other one and carried her past the elevator down the hall. He rounded the corner and went on until he came to the door of his hotel room. Lisa had made the mistake of jumping out of the elevator on his very floor, poor girl. He set her legs down and cradled her upper body against his chest while he pulled his card key from within his jacket pocket and opened the door.

It was amazing how he could not seem to shake himself out of the euphoria of having her there with him. He had been watching her on and off for the past two years, but he had never allowed himself to get this close; too close. Just checking up on her really. He had watched her walk around with that mistake that she was about to marry and felt the need, hard and strong, to pull her away from him. Daniel Davis would never be able to make Lisa happy; not _his _Lisa. Not the woman who had fought him tooth and nail. Not the hard-headed, stubborn, driven woman that he had known those years ago. Sure, she had been fragile and vulnerable, but there was a spark inside of Lisa that would not be denied and Daniel Davis was sure as hell not the man to handle that spark. The way he treated Lisa was disgusting; like he owned her. Like she was a piece of his property. Lisa wasn't anybody's property and even if she was…she sure as hell would not belong to a wank like Daniel Davis.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o

_Elevator. Doors. Elevator doors. Opening. Closing. Strong, smooth hands. Blue eyes. Jackson. Jackson on the elevator. _

_"I came for you." He says._

_Kissing. Breathing. Sweating. Moving rough. Tangled bodies. Passion. Pain. Longing. Needing. Touching. Feeling. Skin. _

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o

Lisa's eyes fluttered open as she finally began to come to and the pounding in her head caused her to wince. Okay, some turn off the freaking marching band, she thought. She moved to put her hand to her forehead, only to find that her wrists were bound to her chair with those plastic zip ties. It all came crashing back to her in one nauseating wave. Jackson. She was also overcome with regret for wearing such a short dress as she soon discovered that her ankles were tied to each leg of the chair, her legs separated and spread wide. She strained against her bindings, trying desperately to press her knees together. Her hair was loose now and her lower lip felt hot and swollen. She wasn't gagged, so her first instinct was to call out for help, but at the same time she didn't want to alert Jackson that she was awake. Instead, she took in her surroundings.

She was shut up in a bedroom not unlike the one in her own suite. She assumed that she was in Jackson's room, which meant that there had to be something lying around in the room that she could used to cut herself free. She searched the room with her eyes. She was tied to the desk chair, though the desk itself, which was littered with several manila folders and papers, was definitely out of her reach. There didn't appear to be anything sharp enough to break her plastic restraints on it anyway. In fact, there was nothing of that nature in plain sight, but maybe in the bathroom…at the very least, surely he had a razor or something. Though, he did seem fond of that five o'clock shadow stubble look that he had going. He did pull it off well. No! What was she thinking? She shook the thoughts of him and his stubble out of her head and readjusted her focus on how to get to that bathroom. She scooted as far to one side of the chair as she could and then all at once shifted her weight to the other side. Her reward: the chair slid maybe half an inch across the carpeted floor. Half an inch closer to the bathroom. She did it again. Another half inch. She did it again. Then again. Maybe if she was really lucky, he would be a straight razor kind of guy. She thought again about the stubble. Okay, probably not gonna be a straight razor. She scooted again. But, on her next shift however, one leg snagged on the carpet and tipped the entire chair over. Lisa groaned as she crashed sideways onto the floor.

"Shit." She mumbled.

She heard the doorknob turn and muttered another obscenity under her breath as Jackson came strolling into the room. "Well, well, look who's awake." He said, taking position behind the chair and righting it. "Did you have a nice nap?" he moved as he said this, allowing his knuckles to brush against her; the phantom touch of her soft hair against his skin.

Lisa waited for him to walk back around in front of her and narrowed her eyes at him. "Lovely. How long was I out?"

"You got somewhere to be?"

Lisa had just opened her mouth to respond when the door to the hotel room opened and cut her off before she had choked out a sound. Lisa thought she would swallow her tongue when she saw who came in. It was the Tyra Banks supermodel waitresss. She paused at the doorway, her eyes locked on Lisa.

"Did I miss something?" 'Tyra' said and Lisa watched as Jackson rolled his eyes before spinning around on his heel to face her.

Jackson strolled into the other room, his hands in his pockets, ever casual, that cocky swagger that he did so well and Lisa couldn't help but to remember the couple that she had seen in the lobby earlier. It _had _been him! She shifted her attention back to the couple now as they tried to speak in hushed voices, but she managed to follow the conversation nonetheless.

"Is there a reason you've tied the wife of a politician to a chair in your bedroom?" the supermodel asked.

"She's not his wife." Jackson countered.

"Whatever. Don't you think someone's gonna notice she's gone?"

"Not this one."

"That's comforting."

"Trust me. I know what I'm doing."

"Why is she here?"

"She recognized me."

"Okay, so she knows you. Big woohoo." 'Tyra' said, "Why not just kill her and be done with the problem?"

That was a good question, Lisa thought. Why hadn't he killed her yet? Oh, yeah. He probably wanted to torture her and exact some vengeance plan that he had been meticulously working on and perfecting for the past two years.

"Maybe I want her to suffer a little first." Jackson said.

'Tyra' cast a glance Lisa's direction, crossed her arms over her generous bosom and took a few steps into the bedroom toward her on her sickeningly long legs. "Hardly seems sporting with her all tied up, though."

"She's got a point, _Jack_." Lisa said, not really thinking about the consequences of pissing him off in her current state.

"Ooh, that girl just called you Jack." 'Tyra' said, "I like her."

Lisa plastered her most innocent smile across her face, "Cut me loose. It'll be like old times!"

"You're funny, Leese." Jackson said.

"Leese?" 'Tyra' said, clearly putting things together in her mind, "Lisa? Your Lisa? As in _the _Lisa?"

So she looked like that _and _she had a brain? Lisa groaned inwardly. Sometimes life just wasn't fair.

"None other." Lisa said, the smile leaving her face.

'Tyra' freaked out. "Oh, my God! I cannot believe that I am meeting _the _Lisa Reisert! The girl that kicked Rippner's ass! Girl, you are my hero. I would shake your hand if you weren't all…you know…tied up."

"Neela." Jackson warned, his tone low and dangerous. Lisa had heard that tone before…too many times.

"I appreciate that…" Lisa said to Neela, "I think."

Neela turned to Jackson with a knowing look on her pretty face. "Well, isn't this a happy coincidence. We're doing a job in the same hotel that you're favorite mark just happens to be staying in."

"Neela." Jackson warned again, his tone getting even lower. Apparently, Neela was treading on very thin ice.

He may have said more, but Lisa didn't hear it. She was too busy thinking about the fact that Neela didn't seem to know that she was going to be there. Jackson's partner, his new dog so to speak, did the fact that she was a female make her his bitch? Off the subject, anyway, she didn't seem to know that Lisa was going to be there. She wasn't there for her, therefore they as a team weren't there for her? So, what or who was their job?

"So, who are you here to kill, Jackson?" Lisa asked, drawing both his and Neela's attention.

"Well, isn't she a clever one?" Neela chimed.

Jackson glared at her and Lisa knew exactly what he was thinking, which was scary in and of itself. Jackson had always had a air of superiority to him, frighteningly intelligent and not one to suffer fools. Neela had sat there openly talking about having a job in the hotel and she had done this after finding out who Lisa was. Jackson was probably having fantasies about smacking her in the mouth at that very moment. It gave Lisa a private thrill to think that maybe supermodel-like Neela wasn't as bright as she had originally seemed.

"Why don't you answer my question, Jackson?" Lisa said, drawing his gaze back to herself. She kept saying his name. It made him seem more real to her. Why she wanted him to feel more real; that was the real question. She also wanted to keep him looking at her. She wanted to be able to see those pretty eyes of his. Okay, it was definitely time to seriously consider therapy.

"You don't need to know, Leese." Jackson stated. It wasn't harsh. It wasn't snappy. He said it exactly how he meant. A plain and simple fact.

"It's a politician, I know that much." Lisa kept going.

"Oh, do you?" Jackson laughed.

"Yes. You had your girl there scoping out the dinner banquet tonight. She brought me a glass of champagne. Your target is someone who was at that banquet."

"Real astute, Leese." Jackson quipped sarcastically, but he couldn't hide his admiration for her. She had impressed him yet again.

She smiled at that. She was enjoying this too much; having him look at her that way. Then, something hit her like a slap across the face and the smile dropped. "It's Daniel, isn't it?"

"Huh?" Jackson said.

"You're gonna kill Daniel to hurt me."

"Contrary to what you might think, Leese, you're not that important to me." Jackson said. Okay, so he lied. Call it self preservation.

"Then who?" Lisa pleaded.

"Why do you need to know?"

"Jackson."

"Lisa."

"Okay!" Neela bellowed, just trying to get a word in, "I'm gonna go change out of this hideous uniform and leave you two alone. You apparently got some issues that you need to work out and I need to go over some files anyway."

With that, she left, taking her long perfect legs with her, much to Lisa's delight. No offense to Neela or anything, but being in the same room with a woman like that could make anyone feel a little inferior.

"Think we pissed your girlfriend off." Lisa chirped.

At first, Jackson just gave her a sharp look, his brow furrowed. Then he laughed. He laughed loudly.

"What is so damn funny?"

"The fact that you think that Neela is my girlfriend." Jackson answered simply.

"I just assumed…"

"Leese, _you're _more her type." Jackson explained, shoving his hands into his pockets, the laughter dying from his voice.

"Huh?" Lisa said, confusion setting in. Jackson quirked his eyebrows at her and realization dawned. "Oh!"

"Yeah." Jackson said, still smiling.

It would be nice to say that she had forgotten how handsome he really was, but she hadn't. But, being in the same room with him again was unreal. She had thought about it, dreamt about it, even daydreamt about it a million times…but none of that could have prepared her for how it would actually feel. He was standing there less than five feet away just staring at her. She thought about all the dreams where he had thrust her up against the wall and kissed her with a passion that she had never experienced. She thought about them and suddenly felt like a fool. Jackson would never see her that way. She was the woman he was hired to follow, torment, and use. She would always be the woman who had stabbed him in the neck with a ballpoint pen.

Jackson lost himself staring at her. She looked so much like he remembered her. He wanted to untie her so she would try to run and he would have an excuse to touch her again; an excuse to press himself against her and feel her tight little body squirming against him as she tried to get away. He found himself staring down at her bare thighs. When she noticed this, Lisa clamped her knees as far together as they would possibly go, glaring up at Jackson as she did so.

Though, it did give her a strange warm, tingling feeling all the way down to her toes when he looked at her with what could only be described as lust in his eyes. She would never admit that and she sure as hell wasn't going to look any closer at the feeling. She looked up at him and blinked back her tears.

"You're really not here for Danny?" she asked, desperate for his attention to be elsewhere.

"No," Jackson hissed, his face contorting into what could best be described as a sneer, "your precious fiancé is safe."

Lisa couldn't help but notice how he practically spat the word fiancé. The way he seethed at the mere mention of Daniel did not inspire much confidence that he had no intentions of harming him. "Promise?"

"What?" Jackson asked, raising one eyebrow.

"Promise me that you're not here to kill Daniel."

"Didn't I just say that?"

"Why should I trust you?"

"I never lie, Leese." Except about his feelings. Unimportant.

Lisa looked up at him with disbelief evident on her pretty face. Frustrated, he blew the air out of his lungs and leaned back against the wall. Lisa saw something flutter behind those amazing eyes of his as he looked at her. Something that seemed so familiar to her, but at the same time it was so distant…It was something haunting; something personal; something that hit her a little too close to home.

"What do you want from me, Leese?" he asked.

"Let me go." She chirped; her attempt at being glib.

"Try again."

"Why are you here?"

"I've got a job."

"Did you come here for me?"

"No."

"Then who?"

"Lisa…" Jackson warned.

"What am I gonna do? You've got me tied to a chair. I just want some peace of mind."

"And knowing who I was sent here to kill is going to give you peace of mind? I don't think so, Leese."

Jackson watched as Lisa's pretty lips pressed together in a tight line. He could practically see the wheels in her head turning as she tried to figure out another way to get him to give her what she wanted. He could think of one way. It involved the incredibly large bed in front of him. He quickly pushed that thought out of his head and turned to exit the room before he got himself into more trouble that he had already gotten himself into by merely having her here.

Unfortunately, Neela was coming in just as he was going out and the two of them crashed into each other as though they were two drunken drivers on a busy freeway. The collision sent the file folder that Neela was carrying spilling out across the bedroom floor. Lisa's eyes fixed immediately onto the piece of paper that floated ever so gently like a feather to come to rest at her feet. It was an 8x10 glossy photograph of none other than Doug Claustine.

**Author's Note: **That's it for this chapter. Let me know what you think, kay!


	6. Chapter Five: Underestimation

**Author's Note: **Thanks, as always, to everyone for the reviews! Here's the next chapter. You guys be sure to let me know if you think I'm slipping up anywhere, kay! In fact, just let me know what you think! Toodles!

**Chapter Five: Underestimation**

"Claustine?" Lisa breathed. Jackson's attention zoomed in on her for one terrifying second, then shifted to the picture at her feet. "You're gonna kill Doug Claustine?"

Jackson's eyes went from the picture, back up to Lisa's eyes, then he turned to look at Neela with undisguised annoyance. She bit down on her bottom lip and avoided his unwavering gaze. Lisa knew what it felt like to be on the other end of that penetrating stare and she did not envy Neela at the moment.

"What did you think you were doing bringing that in here?" Jackson seethed at her.

"I was just gonna run over the schedule with you again." Neela said, shrinking back against the doorframe.

"We've been over the schedule a half a dozen times, Neela, you should be breathing it by now!"

Lisa had been eyeing the rest of the scattered papers that were littering the floor. The ones that had landed face up anyway. From what she could tell, so far, there appeared to be a couple of blueprints to the hotel, some itineraries, and looked like a list of written instructions. She wanted a closer look at that one, but she was next to certain that this was the last time these papers would ever be in the same room with her, let alone within her sight. Jackson would see to that. She squinted her eyes, trying to focus them more sharply on the words on that page just as Jackson swiftly gathered the loose papers up and crammed them back into the folder. He then, in terse angry movements, shoved the folder into Neela's arms. Lisa watched him jostle Neela out of the room and slam the door behind her mumbling something to her about going downstairs and checking out the lobby. Once the door was shot, he propped his hands on his hips, dropped his head, took a deep breath and blew it out. From the look on his face, Lisa would have been willing to be that, in his head, he was counting to ten. Or a hundred. Probably a thousand.

"It's so hard to find good help these days." She quipped, feeling the irrepressible desire to irk him.

He looked at her, flashing half a smirk. "No kidding."

"So, you really didn't come here looking for me?"

"No, I didn't." Jackson answered her, taking the front of her chair by the arms and spinning it so that she was facing the bed, which he then sat on. Lisa was fighting an inner battle to not show the disappointment that caught her by surprise when he had said the word 'no'.

"So, what was I?" she asked, "Like a bonus?"

"More like a pleasant surprise."

"Well, at least it's pleasant."

"Oh, very."

He shifted so that he was lying on his side, propped up on one elbow. Lisa again tried to squeeze her legs together, her mind still trying to work out a means of escape. She ignored the way he was looking at her. She ignored the way it was making her feel. She tried to convince herself that it didn't mean anything that she had fallen in talking to him so easily. God bless the blind eye! He looked so at ease and comfortable in his own skin, just the way he always seemed. Her gaze trailed the length of his body from his Italian leather loafer clad feet crossed at the ankles to the elbow he was bracing himself on with his fingers interlaced to his neck. She paused there for a moment, squinted, tried to see any indication that she had scarred him. Then her eyes traveled to his face. His so very handsome face. How could someone be so handsome and so frightening all at once? Her high school Shakespeare came flooding back to her. _O serpent heart hid with a flowering face!_ She examined the chiseled features of that flowering face, the delicacy of his lips, the masculinity of his chin, the perfection of his nose, his cheeks…then she met his eyes and had to avert her gaze. She squirmed a little more in her chair.

"You know, you've got me tied in a pretty uncomfortable position, here." She said, trying once again unsuccessfully to force her legs together.

"Really?" he said, his eyes drifting down her legs, more because he knew that it made her uncomfortable than he was actually looking. Make no mistake, he thought that Lisa was probably the best looking female on the planet, but he wasn't much into voyeurism. He would much rather have her in the bed, willingly participating in the fun and games along with him.

"Will you untie my legs, please?" Lisa asked, yet again shifting her positions in her chair. She could feel the heat of his stare on her skin like an impatient caress. It was unnerving and thrilling all at the same time. She treated like she did all the others. She pushed it aside. "Or at least tie them together?"

To her surprise, he stood from his position on the bed and walked over to her. He leaned down, bracing his hands on her seat cushion, one on either side of her hips. He locked eyes with her, their lips mere centimeters apart. For a brief moment, Lisa thought that he was going to kiss her. What if he did? How would she feel? Would she kiss him back? Her breathing had hastened and she involuntarily leaned slightly forward; not enough to notice…but she knew that she had. Jackson's hands slid downward, caressing the outside of her thighs, then on down her calves to her ankles. She was certain that she had stopped breathing the second he had hit bare skin. He kept eye contact with Lisa the entire time. She appreciated that he wasn't sneaking a peek at her panties, but at the same time, there was something dancing deep down in their pretty blue depths that made her heart beat a little bit faster. The world stopped. Time had no meaning. There was nothing and no one outside of that hotel room; outside of that moment between the two of them. His touch was soothing and frightening all at the same time. Her body reacted. There was a darkness to this excitement; offering to open up to her; to let her crawl inside and disappear. She needed him to stop. She needed him to take a step back so that she could remind herself of who he was, what he had done. Her removed her high heels and tossed them to the other side of the room. Then, he reached behind him, underneath his suit jacket and brought his hand back with a large, shining knife in it.

A gasp escaped Lisa's lips and she began struggling against her restraints, which thus far she had managed to refrain from doing in his presence. But the sight of that knife pretty much demolished her need to put up a strong front and she went into a frenzy. Jackson said nothing. He clamped one hand down on her ankle; his grip tighter than a vice grip.

"Don't!" Lisa said and turned her head away, her eyes squeezed shut tight against the scene. The interesting thing, or redundant, however you wanted to look at it, was that what her mind could envision was probably one hundred percent worse than what the reality would be.

And, without so much as a word, Jackson cut the plastic binding from her foot. Then he did the same to the other. He then, using the tips of his fingers, knife still in hand, gently pressed her knees together. Lisa had never been so aware of the feeling of air filling her lungs before in her life. Jackson tucked the knife back away securely in its hiding place and stood at the same time Lisa clamped her legs even tighter together.

If she had been thinking, she would have kicked him in the face while she had the chance, but she had been too relieved that he hadn't used that enormous blade on her. Probably better that she hadn't kicked him considering she was still tied to a damn chair and Jackson wasn't one to sit there and not retaliate. She rolled her ankles and looked down at her bare feet. Why had he taken off her shoes? She thought back to 'the incident', when they had been on her stairs. He had expected her to kick him in the face. The fact that he was scared she would stab him through the cheek with her stiletto made her smile a little.

"Daniel will come looking for me, you know." She said.

"You think so?" Jackson said, shrugging out of his jacket and tossing it across the bed.

"Yes."

"Daniel is too busy downstairs being the politician. He hasn't even noticed you're gone."

"You're underestimating him."

"Am I?" Jackson mused, a twinkle of laughter dancing behind his eyes.

"You underestimated me."

That one earned her a narrow eyed glare. He jerked another button loose on his shirt, his eyes still fixed on her. Lisa let her gaze wander over the collar of the white undershirt that he had just revealed to her. There! The tiniest hint of a pinkish scar peeked out from just underneath its edge. She felt the corners of her mouth tip upward. He turned on his heel and disappeared into the bathroom to 'freshen up'. As soon as he was out of sight, Lisa began working at the plastic strips that held her wrists; trying to make her hands small enough to slip through them.

In the bathroom, Jackson splashed some cold water on his face and stared at himself in the mirror. He had just needed to get out of that room. He needed to keep a clear head and with her around, it was like everything was heightened. He could smell her, he could feel her, hell, he could practically taste her!

"What the fuck are you doing?" he asked his reflection.

In the other room, he had the woman of his dreams, the only woman who had ever challenged him, mentally, physically, and the hardest of them all, emotionally, and what was he doing? Talking to himself in the mirror. He shoved away from the counter and ran both hands back through his hair. She was there. He had her. Now, what exactly was he planning to do with her?

Neela was right. This was a bad idea all the way around. Lisa was bad for him. She got under his skin and he liked it too much. She confused him; upset his rationality. He couldn't think straight when she was near him. She was the only person on the whole of the planet that could actually make him feel. And in his profession, that was definitely considered a commodity, not an attribute.

What the hell was she even doing here? She wasn't supposed to be here! No one caught him by surprise, no one. Not since her the last time anyway. In two years, not one single person, or group for that matter, had managed to get the so-called drop on him. He had built up that level of self assurance, of control. Then, Lisa Reisert came riding back into his world on a freaking elevator! She was there with her vote of confidence in that prick of a fiancé and he wanted nothing more than to grab her by the shoulders and prove her wrong about him. He wanted to tell her what he really thought about that self-centered son of a bitch that she was intending to marry. Tell her what kind of guy Daniel really was.

Something struck him belatedly. Why the hell was she so concerned with this Claustine guy? Who was he to her? Other than her more than obvious outstanding moral fiber, the way she had said his name had made him think that she actually cared about the man. Maybe he should ask her.

Lisa had managed to slide one hand out of the straps, though not without the loss of a bit of blood and she had begun to tug and work on the other one. She almost had it over her thumb when she heard the bathroom door opening. Her tugging became frantic at the sound. Jackson appeared.

"What are you doing?" he said, hurrying over to her.

When he reached her, Lisa kicked with both of her legs and chair skidded backwards away from him. He took another step toward her and she kicked again. Only this time, she brought her leg up to his chest and shoved him away from her, causing him to tumble back onto the bed. He hit the mattress with a bounce and she ripped her hand the rest of the way out of the confines of the strap. Jackson leapt to his feet and came at her. Lisa shoved the chair into his legs and watched him topple over it to the floor, then she raced for the bedroom door, jerking it open. But, just as she was about to go through, Jackson had gotten back to his feet. He caught her around the waist and slung her onto the bed. She bounded up onto her knees and moved to roll off the side, but Jackson tackled her and they both tumbled over the edge and landed in the floor with a THUD. Jackson landed on Lisa's back, so she directly threw her elbow back into his ribcage. Jackson grunted and grabbed her by one arm and flipped her over. He climbed onto her so that he was straddling her hips and backhanded her across the face. She wiggled beneath him and the feeling excited Jackson. Be careful what you wish for, he thought. Lisa screamed and threw her arm up, the heel of her hand connecting solidly with his nose. He responded by slapping her again and then, after a battle to catch her flailing arms, he pinned both wrists above her head.

"Damn it, Lisa, calm down." He growled.

She didn't really need to calm down. Jackson was kind of starting to enjoy himself. He had her pinned beneath him, wearing a tiny little dress that left pretty much nothing to the imagination. If he just leaned down a little further, he could kiss her. The idea set something on fire in the bottom of his belly. She looked up at him with those glistening green eyes. He wanted to kiss her. He wanted her to kiss him back. He wanted to be inside of her. He just wanted her. He had since the first day he had started following her. Okay, technically stalking her. Business and pleasure. They aren't supposed to coincide, but it happens.

Lisa looked up at him and blinked. Her lips parted slightly and then she dug every fingernail that she could into his flesh. Jackson inhaled sharply through is teeth and tossed his head back. Lisa anticipated the head butt though, and dodged him so instead he slammed his own head into the floor. She took advantage of his disorientation and bucked her hips to the side, throwing him off of her. She then scrambled to her feet and ran out the open bedroom door and zigzagged her way through the living room to the main door.

She reached the door to the suite, but when she went to jerk it open it caught at only about six inches. The chain. She slammed it shut and went for the chain lock, but her fingers were refusing to work and Jackson was too close. So, instead she ducked under Jackson when he reached for her and ran for the phone, intent on calling hotel security. She had no more than picked up the receiver when she felt something sharp bite into her neck. She looked over out of the corner of her eye, careful not move. Jackson was standing a little under an arm's length away with his dagger held to her throat and a murderous look in his eyes.

"Lisa," he said; his voice that low calm that was scary as all hell, "I will kill you."

He meant it. He didn't want to kill her. But he would.

Lisa dropped the receiver to the floor and slowly turned to look at him, glaring. They inspected one another, both of their faces set with equal ferocity. He had pressed too hard with the blade and noticed a small trickle of blood running down her pale neck. Her wrists were also bleeding from where she had shredded them during her venture at breaking her straps and he had busted her bottom lip when he had smacked her. But even standing there battered, she was a breathtaking sight. Even now, he could see her working things through her mind; coming up with another plan. He almost smiled. That was his Lisa. Always thinking on her feet.

"I need to use the bathroom."

"Yeah," Jackson sneered, "I'm gonna fall for that one again."

"What? I'm gonna leave a message for maid service? Are you kidding me?"

"Let's look at this logically…" Jackson began, only to be interrupted by Lisa.

"Male driven and fact based?"

Jackson licked his lips and reined in his temper. Nobody had ever pushed his buttons quite like her. "I turned my back on you for two seconds and you tried to run."

"My wrists are bleeding."

"Yes, they are."

"Can I wash them?"

No, Jackson thought, say no. Be the heartless son of a bitch that you were trained to be. But then, he watched a drop of crimson blood trickle down her wrist, over her middle finger, and land with a tiny splat on the carpet. Clenching his jaw tight, he tucked his knife back into the sheath at the back of his belt.

"Fine." He said and grabbed her by the upper arm. He dragged her to the bathroom, shoved her through the door and then followed her inside.

"Clean up." He said, leaning back against the wall and propping his hands on his narrow hips.

Lisa glowered at him, then turned to the sink and ran some cold water, wincing as she held her sore, scraped wrists under the stream. Jackson tilted forward slightly, trying to get a better look at her cuts, but his eyes traveled to other areas of her body. Her hair was mussed and sticking up. Without his bidding, Jackson's mind imagined that that was how her hair would look when she had just crawled out of bed after a long night of lovemaking. There was a bruise forming high on her cheekbone where he had slapped her. There was a split at the hem of her already too short dress, revealing even more of her lean toned thigh. She was wiping mascara from her cheeks with the use of both hands and some cold water. Water dribbled from her lower lip and she sucked it into her mouth, causing him to almost cease breathing all together. He ran a hand back through his hair and refocused his attentions to the wounds at her wrists.

"You're gonna need to clean those." He said.

Lisa flashed him a dirty look via the mirror and stifled the urge to throw a handful of freezing water in his face. She should definitely let it heat up first. Like scalding. Boiling. Worthy of nice third degree burns.

Jackson rolled his eyes and pushed off from the wall, coming to stand next to her as he shoved his shirt sleeves up his forearms. He dug into a tiny black bag that was sitting on the counter and pulled a small first aid kit out of it. The bag drew Lisa's attention and she stared at it, trying to make out its contents. Toothbrush, hair comb, Listerine, eye drops, cologne, toothpaste, and she thought she eyed a shaving kit. Damn it. Jackson held in his hand what had to be the smallest bottle of peroxide Lisa had ever seen. He took her by the hand and held it over the sink. When he poured a little peroxide onto her wrist, she yelped and jerked her hand away from him. He gave her a look and reached for her hand again. He gave her a lot of looks, she thought. Amazing how he had an uncanny ability to convey a million different things without speaking. When she recoiled from him again, he let out a breath and grabbed her by the arm faster than it took her to blink. He held her hand like a vice this time and poured the peroxide over her wound. Lisa let out another squeal and tried to pull her hand away again, but to no avail. Jackson was not letting go again.

"Will you stop fighting me so I can help you?" he said. It was more of a command than a question. Then again, Jackson wasn't really one to ask for things politely like a good little boy.

Her lips stretched into a thin line, showing her unhappiness, but she stopped struggling against him. He dabbed at her cuts with a cotton ball, rather gently to Lisa's surprise. He was close enough that she could smell the subtleness of his cologne. It smelled good. Memories came flooding into her mind. His breath on her neck, his voice in her ear, the feel of his body. She blinked those thoughts back into the dark recesses of her mind where they belonged and tried her damnedest not to look at him. Jackson cleaned both of her wrists and then wrapped soft white gauze around them, then he stepped to the side and signaled for her to walk out of the bathroom in front of him. She went and sat down on the bed, crossing her legs and looking up at him; took him in. His hair was slightly disheveled, his clothes were rumpled, he was staring at her with an unbelievable intensity. She couldn't look him in the eyes, and when she averted her gaze, she noticed the tear in the side of his shirt and felt herself smile. I did that, she thought with pride.

"Your shirt's torn." She said.

Jackson looked down and fingered the tear, then looked up at the ceiling and cursed under his breath.

She didn't notice when he had moved, but she noticed when he had her by the throat. He forced her to lie back on the bed, easing himself down with her. In under a minute, she found herself tied up in a most unusual way involving a phone cord. She stared at him through narrowed eyes from her position at the top of the bed, propped up on a bunch of pillows. Sure, you knee your kidnapper in the balls one time and they never trust you again.

Jackson stood in front of the closet, examining the tear in his shirt, which had grown even larger as he had fought to tie her up. With another muttered curse, he began tugging at the buttons. Lisa watched; she shouldn't have. She watched as his fingers slid with deftness over the buttons, undoing each one. Everything in her perception seemed to slow down as she watched him perform this simple action. He pulled the shirt from his shoulders and turned his back to her. Then, he grabbed the white undershirt at the back of the neck and tugged it up over his head. Lisa's breath caught somewhere in the back of her throat. She didn't know it was possible to choke on air. Her eyes traced over the smooth plains of his bare back, following every cut ridge of granite muscle. He moved and his shoulder blades rolled and a rush of blood flooded Lisa's cheeks. His body was lean and sculpted; the body of a runner. He turned to the side, giving Lisa view of his taught stomach and well defined arms. She could see an array of scars covering his body. There was a linear scar going diagonally from just under his left shoulder blade to the middle of his back. There were three small circular scars above his left hip and it looked as though someone had taken a cheese grater to his upper right shoulder. But somehow, the imperfections just seemed to add to the overall splendor of his body. Lisa wondered to herself how many more scars were hidden on him. He turned slightly more toward her, and she caught sight of a circular scar on his lower ribs. She knew that that was from where her father had shot him and she nearly smiled. Then, she felt herself frown against her will as a fresh white undershirt slid down over his toned abdomen. He slipped into a crisp white dress shirt and had it half way buttoned up when Neela came bursting through the bedroom door.

"Davis has sent out a little search party to find his woman." Neela said.

"She's not a property, Neela." Jackson snapped.

Neela blinked. "Did you just hear what I said?"

Jackson shook it off as a momentary lapse in concentration…even though he wasn't supposed to have those. He continued buttoning his shirt, "Three goons; not very bright?"

"To say the least." Neela answered.

Lisa almost groaned. The idea of Jake, Butch, or Blade outsmarting Jackson was definitely improbable. The fact that they seemed to be her only hope of escape; now that was plain old sad.

"Fantastic." Jackson sighed, tucking his shirt into his waistband. He cast a glance at Lisa and she just beamed the brightest smile he had ever seen up at him. His eyes narrowed.

Just because the odds were stacked against her, didn't mean she couldn't gloat a little. Plus, it was an opportunity to irk Jackson, and that seemed to have become her favorite pastime as of the late.

"So much for not being noticed, huh." Neela said, a pointed look at Jackson.

"Not now." Jackson said and put on his suit jacket. "There's another way to look at this you know. Lisa's absence may in fact divert attention away from us."

Neela cocked one perfect eyebrow, "I'd say that were true if we weren't the ones who had her."

"No, no." Jackson continued, "we just need to get her out of the hotel. Put her somewhere safe." And away from Daniel Davis. He kept that thought to himself.

"Such as?" Neela questioned.

"I'm prepared for every eventuality." Jackson said, looking over at Lisa. Okay, so he hadn't been completely one hundred percent prepared for her presence, but now that she was here, he was certain that he could handle it.

Neela and Jackson seemed to both be working it over in their heads for a silent moment before Jackson nodded his head in jerky decisive movements.

He walked over to Lisa, untangled the phone cord from around her, and pulled her to her feet by her arms. "Let's go for a ride, Leese."

**Author's Note: **Well, that's it for now. Don't forget to tell me what you think!


	7. Chapter Six: On the Run

**Author's Note: **Thank you so much for the reviews! Here's the next chapter, which I hope doesn't let you down! Be sure to let me know what you think about it, kay!

**Chapter Six: On the Run**

Neela led the way down the hall to the elevators and pushed the button with one long manicured finger. Even her fingers were perfect! Lisa stood there, more annoyed now than she was frightened. She had asked Jackson for her heels back and instead, he had given her a pair of Neela's snow boots, because wearing snow boots with a cocktail dress is just so inconspicuous, right? And to top it all off, Neela's feet were bigger than Lisa's so the damn boots were like a size too big for her. Just enough to make them extremely uncomfortable to walk in. The three of them loaded into the elevator in silence and Jackson reached around Lisa to push the button for the underground parking level; his hand just barely brushing against her arm. Her skin was left tingling from the contact, but she kept that reaction in queue.

Jackson had already turned his face into a blank mask…just before he purposely touched Lisa. Call it a guilty pleasure that he simply could not deny himself.

The elevator made a whooshing sound as it descended the hotel levels. Lisa blocked out the sound; blocked out everything as her thoughts raced to figure out just how she was going to get herself out of this mess. Her mind rapidly concocted a plan, but it relied on a whole lot of factors falling into place. Factors that she couldn't really guarantee, but she had no other choices. This was it. It was all that she had.

Neela was standing in the corner of the elevator, her full lips pressed together in a tight line as if holding the words in her mouth, and she was bouncing up and down on the balls of her feet trying to contain herself. She resembled more of an impatient child at the moment, rather than a deadly assassin. Then, she rolled her eyes and took a step toward Lisa, apparently unable to suppress herself any longer.

"Okay," she said, "I gotta know."

Lisa looked at her like she had lost her mind, but raised her eyebrows expectantly anyways.

"Is it true that you kicked Rippner's ass with a pen?" Neela asked, a broad grin splitting her perfect lips.

Jackson cleared his throat in warning from his position behind Lisa, but that only served as encouragement for her.

Grinning like a Cheshire cat at Neela, she replied, "Yes."

"Oh, my God! That is awesome!" Neela exclaimed. Her entire body was pretty much quacking in her enthusiasm. "I mean, I gotta admit, I thought it was a rumor. You know, an urban legend. The mighty Jackson Rippner taken down by a five foot four redhead! What about the pump? Is it true about the pump?"

"You mean the one I impaled in his thigh?"

Neela practically leapt out of her skin at that one. She even clapped her hands a couple of times. Then she made the mistake of looking over at Jackson, and the steel that she saw in his eyes cut her laughter off at the neck. If it hadn't, she was close to certain that he would have cut her off at the neck. She cleared her throat and struggled to swallow the lump that had formed there. Joking around was all fine and dandy, but when he got that look in his eyes, it was time to shut the hell up or face the consequences.

Lisa stopped goading him as well; focusing her attention instead on what she was about to have to do. She ran over it in her head one more time and said a silent prayer that it would work for her.

The elevator came to a stop and without realizing it, Lisa stopped breathing. As the doors slid open, she turned quickly and kicked Neela in the shin, then pushed her head into the wall of the elevator car with both hands. Jackson grabbed her from behind, but Lisa threw her head back into his face. Yeah, see how he liked it! It made her head swim a little bit for a minute there too, but that was an acceptable casualty. She followed that with a quick elbow to his stomach. His arms went slack and when he released her, she made a break for it.

Jackson stumbled out of the elevator holding one hand to his abdomen and bracing himself on the wall with his other, trying to catch his breath. She had knocked the freaking wind out of him! He watched Lisa running through the middle of the parking garage. Neela suddenly appeared within his vision, gun pointed purposefully at Lisa's back. Jackson reacted, ignoring the pain in his stomach. He grabbed Neela's wrist and thrust upward just as she fired, the silenced shot crashing into the concrete ceiling above them instead of into Lisa. Lisa disappeared into a row of cars.

Neela glared at Jackson, who matched her furious gaze with his own. "What are you doing?" Neela demanded.

"The only way out of this garage is this elevator or that ramp," he pointed to his right, "Lisa went that way." He pointed straight in front of them. "She's trapped."

He turned, his eyes scanning the room in search of where Lisa had disappeared to. "You stay right her and guard that ramp." He told Neela, "If you see her, don't shoot her. Catch her."

"What if she fights?"

"Then you fight. But no permanent damage is to be done." Jackson said, then he turned to her, "And, Neela, I swear to God if you kill her…" His eyes forebode the limitless variations of tortures that he would come up with a put her through if she dared defy him.

Neela's throat tightened and it was a battle just to swallow while he was looking at her like that. She didn't want to find out what those tortures lurking in his eyes were. Her mind could do without the details. She tucked her gun away and took her post beside the elevator, determined not to pull that weapon again.

Jackson crouched down on bent knees and started his way through the garage. Those intense blue eyes of his darted back and forth, taking in the length of every aisle that he passed, searching for any sign of movement; any shift of a shadow; any shutter against the air; anything that was out of place. The air was so frigid; he could see white puffs coming from his mouth and nose. He held his breath, only taking in a shallow lungful when he absolutely needed it. Most people would have passed out after five minutes of breathing that way. He could go on at it for hours. Just another one of those things that he had trained his body to do, which had come in handy on more than one occasion. That along with the fact that he could bear with the near intolerable cold weather without his coat for more than an hour and a half before feeling the first signs of fatigue. That was supposed to be impossible. Whoever had said that had never met him.

Lisa sat back on her heels beside the tire of the large Lincoln town car. She had both hands cupped over her mouth and nose; trying not to tremble, trying not to breathe, trying not to cry. It was freezing outside, thick snow covering every crevice beyond the shelter of the garage. Here she was, crouched low on the cold pavement in a backless cocktail dress made of thread bare material and bare legs. She was suddenly a little thankful that Jackson had forced her into the snow boots. Oh, the irony. She fought off another shiver, but it wouldn't be too much longer until her entire body would be convulsing from the cold.

Slowly, she sucked in a deep breath and held it before lowering her hands from her face and raising herself from her heels. She cursed herself in her mind for her stupidity of running past the only exits from the place. She had been thinking only about getting away from Jackson and not about an actual exit route. She pushed her self degradation aside for the time being and concentrated on the destination at hand. She needed to get back to the ramp or the elevator; whichever one she could get to without being noticed. Granted, she had heard Jackson tell Neela to stand guard, so that was going to be a problem. She peeked around the front of the car. No one. She scrambled to the shelter of the next car.

Jackson stopped moving and focused on…_yes_…the sound of shuffling feet. He smirked. She was good. He almost hadn't heard her. Almost. His smile broadened and he crouched down even lower as his predatory instincts took hold. He was hunting. He was hunting for his very favorite target. Another light scuffing of feet and he went gliding through a row of cars; and unlike poor Lisa with all her efforts, his feet made no sound.

Lisa rested her forehead against the icy cold metal of an SUV of some kind. Her breathing was coming in large heaves, so she buried her face in the crook of her arm to hide it. She needed to keep moving, but the cold was taking its effect on her body. Her muscles were beginning to stiffen and her joints had begun to lock up. Her teeth were chattering now, so she had ripped a swath of material from the tear in her dress and shoved it into her mouth; biting down to keep from making too much noise. She just needed another moment, and she would go for the exit. She could pitch herself into Neela and knock her off balance before going for the ramp. It was a half cocked plan, to say the very least, but then again, what else did she have? Besides, her track record with half cocked plans was actually pretty good.

She took a deep breath through her nose and was about to make her move, when a hand shot out from under the SUV and wrapped around her ankle. Lisa shrieked as her feet were ripped out from under her. Landing hard on the rough pavement, she was all of the sudden jerked underneath the vehicle.

She kicked Jackson hard in the thigh with the toe of her boot. He swore and rolled on top of her, pinning her to the ground. She could feel every muscular curve of his body. Every groove she had admired in the hotel room was now a startling and attractive reality. How many times had she dreamt about this? No! She shook those thoughts away, bringing her focus back to the actuality of the situation and not her warped fantasy of what could have been. Lisa squirmed beneath him, working her hand upward, she grasp his chin and thrust his head solidly against the rigid underbelly of the SUV. He glared down at her with no mercy showing in his bright blue eyes and wrapped both hands around her throat. He pressed down with force, cutting off her oxygen. Lisa clawed at his hands. No, she thought, no.

"Calm down, Leese." Jackson said, enjoying the feel of her body moving against his own; so small and firm and tight. She bucked her hips against him, trying to throw him off of her he assumed, but all it did was tug at the threads of his control. He didn't know how long he could remain calm if she kept doing that. He spoke again. "I said, calm down."

His voice rolled across her skin, low and calm; caressing; almost soothing. His eyes had regained some of their warmth and part of her, some dark, twisted, secret part, wanted desperately to trust him. To yield herself to him and let that warm rugged voice envelops her and lull her into a trance.

"I'm not going to kill you." He said, "I'm going to strangle you until you pass out, which should be happening in about another minute or so."

Black lace crept around the edges of her vision. She coughed and wretched and struggled for air. Her lungs felt as though they were on fire. Her body was all too aware of the cold concrete beneath her and the wonderful weight of Jackson's body pressing down on her. Twisted though, but there it was. Nothing new, really. Her legs flailed on either side of Jackson's trim hips where he had worked his way in between them. When she thought about it, the situation was almost symbolic. Enough so to give even Freud a hard-on. The man who had raped her soul in the same position and similar location as the man who had raped her body. Her eyelids began to flutter and it became hard for her to focus. Again. Happening again. Never again. It would never happen again! _It would never happen again!_

Jackson's cell phone went off and he glanced down away from her. Lisa took advantage of the distraction. She balled up her fist and punched him with all of her might, but not in the face. No. She punched him as hard as she could in the neck, hopefully managing to hit him in the esophagus.

Jackson clutched at his throat and collapsed, sputtering on top of her. Lisa shoved him to the side and flipped over onto her belly, gasping and choking as sweet oxygen flooded back into her lungs. She used her hands, her fingers, her fingernails scratching against the pavement to drag herself out from underneath the SUV. Jackson grabbed her ankle in attempt to stop her, but Lisa slipped her foot out of the confines of the slightly too large boot.

She stumbled unsteadily on her feet trying to get to the exit. Neela had apparently taken from her scream that Jackson had caught her and had let down her guard. She had actually turned her back to the room. Lisa smirked. Jackson was gonna be pissed at her! Lisa ran up and just as Neela was about to turn around at the sound of her feet, Lisa caught her by the back of the hair and slammed her head against the wall again. Stick with what worked. Neela slid down to the ground and flipped over onto her knees. As soon as she did, Lisa kicked her in the face with the foot that was still clad in the heavy snow boot. She turned and hit the button for the elevator, but the sound of scraping feet and a car alarm let her know that Jackson was moving again. She didn't have time to wait for the damn elevator, so she took off up the parking ramp.

Jackson got to the elevator just in time to see Lisa disappear around the corner at the top of the ramp. Neela sat up with a groan and rubbed her hand over her head. Jackson couldn't stop the smile from spreading across his face. That a girl, Leese, he thought. Neela pushed herself to her feet.

"What the hell…" she said.

"And she didn't even use a pen." Jackson said, not even attempting to keep the smug tone out of his voice.

"Lisa did this?" she asked.

Jackson opened his mouth to answer, or maybe to reprimand her for letting Lisa get the drop on her. By reprimand, of course, he meant whispered threats of severe bodily harm. Either way, he wasn't quite sure what was going to come out of his mouth, and he was never going to find out because as soon as his lips parted, there was a light _ding _announcing the arrival of the elevator. The doors slid open and Jackson just smiled.

Scattered thoughts were buzzing through Lisa's head as she ran up the road to the hotel. She had to get to someone. Daniel! She had to get to Daniel. She could try to talk to one of the hotel employees, but they would probably think that she was just some crazy who had wandered in and call security on her. That's what she would have done in the same situation. No. Daniel would believe her; Daniel would help her! Daniel could call the FBI or the CIA or the freaking Marines! It would probably take all of that manpower to isolate and defeat Jackson.

Lisa ran as fast as she could considering that she could no longer feel ninety percent of her body. However, she took comfort in the fact that she only had to make it to the lobby. She stumbled over the sidewalk, convinced that her bare foot was going to have a bad case of frostbite before the night was through. She felt herself smiling when the sliding doors of the hotel lobby came into her view. Her eyes darted back and forth in search of the bellhop. No one. Where the hell was the bell boy? She went lurching through the doors and looked to the front desk. Again, no one. Not even a ghost. What kind of hotel just went suddenly dead? At the Lux, things were always bustling; something was always happening. At three in the flipping morning, she was usually still getting messages from whiney guests! What was wrong with these people? Didn't they believe in service? Fighting off the blows to her small shred of hope, she staggered toward the doors to the banquet hall that the dinner was being held. She pushed in through the doors and suppressed the urge to scream, or cry out, or throw something. The dinner was over. There was no one left.

Where was Daniel? Maybe he had gone back up to their room looking for her. She made for the elevators. She hit the button, then stripped herself of the remaining boot. Running in one shoe was just too awkward and too much work. She needed speed and now that she was back inside, it was unnecessary.

The elevator opened with the preceding _ding_ and leaning back against the back wall of the elevator with the damned smirk was Jackson. Lisa screamed through clenched teeth at him and threw the boot at his head. Not waiting to see if it hit him or not, she spun on the ball of her foot and went running for the stairwell. She hit the door without looking back and took the steps two at a time. She heard the door open and Jackson's footsteps coming after her. She dug down deep inside of herself and pumped her legs even harder and faster than they were already going.

She went up four more floors before going through the door for the fifth level, catching it by the handle and easing it closed, making as little noise as possible. Then, she raced for the elevator, again punching the button. Her stomach had begun to cramp up and her thighs were throbbing and burning. Stairmaster my ass! Lisa kept casting nervous glances at the stairwell door. She was terrified that at any minute now, Jackson would come bursting through that damn door and catch her. The elevator doors finally slid open.

"No!" Lisa screamed as Jackson reached out and pulled her thrashing body into the elevator with him. He pinned her back against the panel with his body and held his finger on the 'open doors' button. Lisa pushed at his chest with her arms and flung her body from side to side trying to get away from him. Jackson tangled his free hand into her hair and jerked her to the side, trying to hold her still. A moment later, Neela came prancing into the elevator. Lisa glared at her. It had been her footsteps she had heard, not Jackson's. Once the elevator doors closed, Jackson released Lisa and she recoiled into the opposite side of the elevator. Jackson shoved both of his hands back through his hair and blew out a breath.

"Quite the chase, Leese." He said.

Neela walked over to Lisa and raised her hand as if to backhand her. Lisa closed her eyes and braced herself for the blow, but it never came. When she reopened her eyes, she saw that Jackson had Neela by the forearm. He yanked her away from Lisa and shoved her to the far side of the elevator. Neela's model perfect face was flushed red. Lisa halfway expected steam to come flooding out of her ears at any second, like one of those cartoon characters.

"She kicked me in the face!" Neela bellowed.

"I really don't care." Jackson said, shaking his head the slightest little bit to either side. His smile was smug and condescending; a shark in an Italian cut suit. He ran his hands over the jacket of that expensive suit and tugged at the belt around the waist of his slacks before he turned to face Lisa. Though when he spoke, he addressed Neela. "The money called."

"What did he want?" Neela asked.

"I don't know." Jackson said, stepping forward, closing what little distance between himself and Lisa that there was. He stroked his hand down her cheek, his touch as faint as butterfly wings, and then whispered as a lover might do. "Lisa went for the jugular before I could find out." He then grabbed her, his large hand more or less covering the lower part of her face and he gave her jaw a painful squeeze. Tears stung at the back of Lisa's eyes and she let out an involuntary yelp of pain. He released her. It was a subtle threat. A little something just to remind her of exactly how ruthless he could be if pushed.

Lisa cowered back into the corner, her hand caressing her bruised jaw line. She couldn't meet Jackson's cold gaze and the thought brought a smirk to his handsome mouth. He turned his back to her and stood with his hands perched up on his narrow hips. He was the one in control; he was the one holding all of the cards; he was the one with all the power. Lisa would learn.

Lisa was not particularly ready to lean that lesson, though.

Her gaze rose from the floor to come to rest burning holes into his back. But, even then, she had to fight off the images of the well toned plains of muscles that she knew lay beneath his clothes. She lowered her hand from her face and inhaled through her nostrils, readying herself for speech.

"You know," she started, "Daniel will find me."

She heard Jackson sigh and his head dropped forward as maybe a father might do when dealing with a disobedient child.

"And when he finds me," Lisa continued, "he'll find you."

"You just don't listen, do you, Leese?" he said, turning once again to face her, secretly pleased with her. She would never lose her fight, her fire. She would always be stubborn and hard headed…and he loved it! Neela watched their exchange from the far corner of the elevator, her eyes wide and interested. "Daniel will not find you."

"He will. Wanna know why?" Lisa goaded. This was probably the stupidest thing she had ever done, but she couldn't seem to stop the words from tumbling out of her mouth. She never had been good at shutting up.

"Please." Jackson said, spreading his arms wide. He stood there, looking thoroughly entertained, his bright blue eyes alive and teetering on the tinges of amusement.

"Because he's smarter than you." Okay, so she was bluffing. What else could she do? She needed him to think that her hand was stronger than it was.

The amusement in Jackson's eyes grew as they widened and the beginnings of his damned smug smile appeared at the corners of his lips. Neela made a kind of 'oh no' sound from her corner of the cart. She was standing very still as a small creature watching two predators in a fight might have done; afraid that if she moved at all it would draw attention to herself.

"You think so, do you?" Jackson chuckled. Pure defiance was burning so bright behind those green eyes of hers, he could feel the heat.

"Please," Lisa spat, "He's ten times the man you are."

Apparently, that was taking it a step too far. She watched in terror as Jackson's eyes narrowed and took on a dangerous glint. There was no more amusement. Just…malice. She wanted those words back. Wanted to reach out, grab them, and stuff them back into her mouth. She had bluffed herself into a corner. Hell, she didn't even mean it! She knew it wasn't true! In the next instant, Jackson grabbed her by the throat and slammed her hard against the wall. Then, he did it again just for sport.

"So," he chimed, his voice cheerful and higher an octave as it got when he got really pissed off, "you think you're white knight will save you, huh?"

Lisa's fingers groped at his steel-like grip and she was taken back into the tiny airplane bathroom. The memory brought on a rush of fear and excitement all at the same time. The way he had overpowered her so easily, the fierceness of his gaze, the intensity of the attraction that had lay so obviously and ignored between them. Even now his skin radiated with the same heat that she had felt with him so many years ago. Without her consent, her body was reacting to his closeness. She found herself wondering if he felt it, too. God, she was sick. Her bare feet skidded and floundered across the floor as her knees buckled beneath her. "Always with the choking…get a new act." She rasped, trying to regain a foothold on the dignity that her own mind had just stolen from her. She did this by antagonizing him further. There was that problem with shutting up again.

Bad idea.

The comment earned her another bash against the wall.

"See Leese," Jackson continued, as if uninterrupted, his grasp on her throat tightening even more if that was possible, "You've got it in your pretty little head that this soft, lovable, humanitarian, fiancé of yours is going to come riding out of the shadows, slay the big bad assassin and sweep you off to fairyland…but that just isn't going to happen. Would you like me to tell you why?"

Lisa pulled on his wrist. There was that lace again; creeping, crawling, threatening to drown out her world and leave her in nothing but a large black void that she couldn't escape. Maybe she should just give in to it. It would be so much easier than always fighting. She couldn't support herself; couldn't get her feet under her. He was the only thing that was holding her up.

"Would you like me to tell you why?" he repeated in a growl, giving her a slight shake, then relinquishing his grip enough that a bit of air flowed to her lungs.

Lisa drank that small bit in and the black lace receded back into the depths of her mind. She was certain that her face was still flushed tints of red and purple, but she would have to try and be strong anyway. After all, it was the fight that made life exciting. She blinked back her tears and forced herself to meet his eyes. It was an unspoken challenge to him, and it made him sneer.

"I'll tell you why," he said. Then, he let go of her throat and quickly moved his hand beneath her arm to her back to hold her up, his hand now cradling the back of her neck. He held her body against his; a lover's embrace. She clung to the sleeve of his jacket and rested her head against his shoulder. She didn't have a choice. She couldn't even stand up on her own. She breathed in. The delicious scent of his aftershave was too comforting. Then, Jackson breathed his next sentence against the outer shell of her ear, his lips grazing her as he spoke, "Because, Leese, your precious _Daniel _is the one who hired me."

**Author's Note: **That's it for this chapter. Don't forget to let me know what you think!


	8. Chapter Seven: Honesty

**Author's Note: **Thanks again to everyone who reviewed! I will never be able to say that enough, I think. Well, here's the next chapter. I hope you all like it. Be sure to let me know, kay!

**Chapter Seven: Honesty**

Jackson's words were like a slap to her face. No. Worse. "You're lying," she said, "You're a liar."

"You can call me a lot of things, Leese, but that isn't one of them." Jackson replied, his face holding none of his usual smugness. Instead, he looked completely serious; what on any other person would have been labeled as sincere. Lisa had begun to question whether or not Jackson had a sincere bone in his body; but in his defense, he had never lied to her. Maybe that was what was really bothering her.

"No." She breathed, her entire body trembling as she clung to the handrail at the back of the elevator to keep herself from falling.

Jackson nodded his head at her. A simple gesture. Nothing more.

"No." Lisa hissed with more ferocity, shaking her head violently from side to side, determined not to let the one thing in her life that had some semblance of normalcy slip through her fingers.

"Please, Lisa, think about it!" Jackson roared, "He's a politician! Since when have any one of his kind not been willing to sell their soul in order to get whatever it is they want?"

Lisa's mind flickered back to dinner that evening. The way Daniel had been so apt to point out the fact that Claustine was ahead of him in the opinion polls. The polite smile that had tugged at the corners of his lips; a totally fake one. How many times had she seen that same smile when he was talking to supporters who had begun to irk him? He was always trying to mask the loathing in his eyes because he thought it to be unbecoming for an elected official. When she really did think about it, Jackson's confession made perfect sense. But she still wasn't ready to just give up on Daniel and start to believe in Jackson. Was she?

"I don't believe you." Lisa said, avoiding the intensity of his gaze.

"Yes, you do." Jackson said. Not an accusation. Not a demand. A statement. A fact. "You just don't want to."

Lisa squeezed both of her eyes closed and put her hand over her mouth to keep her chin from quivering. He had to be lying! She didn't want what he was saying to be true! It messed up her entire safe little normal world that she had worked so damn hard to build for herself. She could feel it crashing down all around her as though Jackson had taken a wrecking ball to it.

"Back to the garage?" Neela asked, giving Lisa a moment to gather her thoughts.

Jackson glanced at his wristwatch and shook his head. "Better not risk it. Let's do a quick walk by Claustine's room, then we'll head back to the suite for preliminaries."

Neela nodded and punched a button.

The elevator door opened with its signature _ding _and Lisa felt Jackson's hand slip around her elbow before he lead her through the doors, Neela at their heels with her lips pressed together so tightly that they had taken on a pale gray color. She was biting her tongue so hard about what had happened in that elevator, she was surprised it wasn't bleeding yet. They walked at a quick pace; double timing it as they said in the military. They rounded a corner and Jackson pulled Lisa to a halt so quickly that she felt her teeth clack together. She fixed him with an evil stare, but his attention was ahead of them. Lisa slowly turned her head to follow his gaze and soon found her eyes locked with those of her fiancé.

Daniel was standing not ten feet away from them, presumably in front of Claustine's door, his mouth agape as he looked on at Lisa and her two companions. Jake stood at his side; but Butch and Blade were uncharacteristically absent. They all stood there awkwardly staring at one another for what felt like an hour, but in reality couldn't have been more than thirty seconds.

Lisa was the first to act. She jerked her arm away from Jackson and lunged forward. "Daniel!" she cried.

Jackson caught around the waist on sheer reflex that he didn't really care to examine closer just yet, and lifted her off of her feet. He spun around behind Neela, who on impulse had drawn her gun and fixed it on Daniel. Despite a few mistakes that she had made this evening, Neela was a well trained dog. Her first and foremost instincts were to protect her master. Jackson first tried to drag Lisa down the hall, but she fell to the ground and refused to move any further. Jake had reacted as soon as Neela had drawn her weapon. He grabbed her by the wrist and slung her sideways. She had responded by thrusting the heel of her hand upwards into his nose, winning a satisfying crunch and warm splatter of blood across her forearm. Jake yelped and grabbed a handful of Neela's hair and pulled. As the two of them tussled in the middle of the hallway, Daniel was trying to find a gap in which he could squeeze past them.

"Lisa!" He called out.

Jackson threw him a look over his shoulder. He couldn't really explain his actions from that point on. He had no justification or reasoning for what he was about to do other than a wave of something, some mixture of jealousy and rage and selfishness had completely taken over his body. Some weird kind of possessiveness. His mind started working on a baser level. It told him that something was there wanting to take Lisa away from him; _his _Lisa. Instinct told him to protect her, the way a six year old might protect a favorite toy. And before he knew what he was doing, he had gathered Lisa up in his arms and slung her over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes and taken off trotting down the hall. Lisa kicked and squirmed against him, but it was futile. She managed to get one nice solid knee into his ribs, but all that that seemed to rouse from him was a grunt and he tightened his grip on her legs, pinning them more firmly together. Soon enough, he had her loaded into the increasingly familiar elevator on their way back up to his floor.

He dropped his shoulder and let Lisa slide down. As soon as Lisa's feet were once again on the ground, she attacked. She punched him in the jaw, the shoulder, the stomach, the chest. There was no planned force of attack, she simply had to hit him. Her body needed to unleash what it was feeling, even though her mind wasn't entirely certain as to what that feeling was exactly. Tears poured from her squinted eyes as her tiny fists used Jackson's body for her punching bag.

"Let me go!" she cried, "Let me go! You don't need me! You're not here for me! Just let me go!"

Jackson used his forearms to ward off her blows. He smacked her in the mouth which snapped her head to the side, and while her face was turned he finally managed to capture her arms. He twisted them around behind her and pinned them between her back and his chest. He held her that way, saying nothing for the rest of the ride.

Tears continued to slide silently down Lisa's face, but she tried her hardest not to make a sound. She didn't want Jackson to have the satisfaction of hearing her whimper. It was a pointless battle as she had more or less just had a breakdown right in front of him, but she needed something to focus on.

Jackson held her to him; to keep her from beating the shit out of him. At least that's what he told himself, even though she had earned every right to do just that. But, even as he told himself that his objective was self protection, he breathed in the scent of her hair. It smelled of Jasmine as he had known it would. That was her favorite shampoo. His thumb had begun to massage the skin of her arm in a small circular motion. He found himself wanting to put her at ease; to help her to relax, but how was he supposed to do that when he had just hauled her off down a hallway, quite obviously in an attempt to keep her away from the man that she had agreed to marry.

Lisa sagged back against Jackson, not having the will in her to struggle anymore. If he really was in league with Daniel, why had he gone through so much trouble to keep her away from him? What did he want from her?

The elevator stopped and Jackson released one of her arms. Keeping a firm grasp on her other one, he lead her, well, more like he dragged her down the hall toward his room. She just sort of stumbled along beside him, as though her feet weren't quite working the way they should be. Of course, she had just been running practically barefoot through the freezing cold. Once they were in the safety of his suite, he lead her to the bathroom by her elbow and all but shoved her inside.

"Clean up." He said, his voice curt and cold as he unknowingly mimicked his same phrase and stance from earlier that evening.

Lisa examined her reflection in the mirror. She looked even more like hell than she had the last time that she was in here. Her lip was busted open again and streaming a small line of blood down her chin. Her cheeks were bruised and there were black mascara smudges underneath her eyes. She grabbed a white washcloth from the counter and ran it under cold water before dabbing at her mouth with it. Once she had gotten the bleeding to stop, she wiped the salt streaks from her cheeks and slapped the washcloth down into the sink and glowered at Jackson through use of the mirror. It was much easier to look defiant without tearstains on her face.

"Let me go." She demanded.

"No."

"You don't need me."

Jackson said nothing. He wouldn't even look her in the eyes. Truth be told, he couldn't bring himself to meet her eyes or even so much as look at her. How could he after what had just happened? If he looked at her now, she would see right through him. She would see exactly what she meant to him and he could not have that. She would see that it wasn't that he couldn't let her go, it was that he didn't want to.

Lisa figured out that she wasn't getting anywhere with demands. So, she switched tactics. There was more than one way to skin a cat; or in this case, an assassin. "You lied to me." She accused.

"When?" Jackson said, his gaze focusing in sharply on her.

Bad move.

She had him now. He had left her an opening and she was about to climb right on up in it.

She turned to face him; stared him down. "You've done nothing but lie to me from the moment you first saw me!"

"I have never lied to you, Lisa." He said, straightening his stance. They were toe to toe now. And neither one of them was showing any sign of backing down.

"You said Daniel hired you."

"He did."

"Then why not just hand me over for him to deal with?"

"Maybe I wasn't ready to give you up!" Jackson snapped without realizing exactly what it was that he was saying. As soon as the words left his mouth, he wished them back. He suddenly felt very exposed.

Lisa took a step back as though he had physically pushed her. He spoke about her just then as though she belonged to him…and scariest notion of it all was that the idea seemed to hold an appeal to her. Her mouth opened and closed several times before she was able to force any sound to come out. "Wha…what do you mean by that?"

"Nothing." Jackson replied with haste, backpedaling. But the words were strangled and shaky in the back of his throat. He needed them to have more force to them. His mind began to ramble at him. To want is to be weak. To need is to be weak. To care is to be dead. "Nothing, I didn't mean anything."

Lisa turned her back to him and ran her hands back over her hair, fresh tears burning behind her eyelids as every fantasy of him, every daydream, every memory came blazing to the surface, bringing with them fresh bites of pain and torment. "Leave me alone. Why would you say something like that?" she said, "Leave me alone. Go away! Leave me alone! Leave me alone!"

She spun around on the ball of her foot to face him and slapped him in the chest with an open palm. "Get out of my head!" she screamed, choking on her own sobs. "Why can't you just leave me be! You're always there, in the back of my mind with your damn eyes! Stop it! Stop it! Stop it! Just, leave me alone for once! Stop messing with my head!"

She sank to her knees, a puddle in the middle of the bathroom floor. Too many times now, he had made her cry; made her question everything about her life; made her question her very sanity. Too many damn times.

Jackson stared down at her, jaw tightened, face a mask to hide the inner suffering that he had been feeling for so long now; for the past two years. No, longer than that even. The suffering that she had apparently been sharing with him. He had to make a decision right then and there, because as soon as he opened his mouth, there would be no going back. He had always considered himself an honest person; prided himself on it. So now he had to decide whether or not to be honest with Lisa. _His _Lisa.

"Do you think I want to be in your head?" he said, earning him a tearful look from Lisa, "Do you think I want you in mine? Don't you think my life was a whole hell of a lot easier when I didn't eat, breathe, and sleep Lisa fucking Reisert!" He turned away from her and punched the door so hard that the wood cracked. Then, he leaned his forehead against it, his breathing shallow and fast. Some people had Zen gardens, others did Yoga to help manage their stress levels. He preferred to hit things. Hard. "You haunt me, Leese." His voice was trembling slightly under the weight of his words, "For two years now, I haven't gone for one full hour without thinking about you at least once."

Lisa rose unsteadily to her feet and stared at his back. Maybe it wasn't that she wasn't ready to give up Daniel. Maybe it was that she hadn't been ready to accept Jackson. Maybe she had been afraid of Jackson; maybe that had been the safest thing. Was she ready to change that? Was she ready to make that leap and accept all that went with it? Her hands shuddered as she braced them on the marble bathroom counter and took a step forward, afraid that if she didn't hold on to it, her knees would fail her and she would fall.

"I didn't know you would be here, but when I saw you I…" He turned around to face her and was cut off when he found himself practically nose to nose with her. She stared up at him with bloodshot, mascara smudged eyes. Her eyelids fluttered, twice. Her eyes searched his face, resting for the slightest moment on his mouth before landing firmly on his eyes. She looked at him and he knew that she knew everything. He looked into the big, glistening green eyes and he saw every turbulent emotion that he had been fighting to keep bottled up inside of himself for way too long reflected back out at him. Her bottom lips trembled slightly and she sucked it into her mouth to wet it, releasing slowly from the pull of her teeth. Then, tentatively, she lifted up on her tiptoes and pressed her incredibly soft lips to his.

Jackson flung himself back against the door away from her, away from the tender contact, staring at her as though she had attacked him. Lisa simply stepped forward and kissed him again, more aggressively this time. She took his face in both hands and pulled him closer to her. A moment later, Jackson kissed her back and then took complete control. He grabbed her by the back of the head, deepening the kiss as he pushed her hips back against the counter. Lisa's mind flashed briefly on her dreams. Briefly. Reality was so much better! She should not be doing this, a voice somewhere in the back of her mind screamed at her. But the promise of Jackson was too appealing; too alluring. He stood in front of her like sin with a seductive smile, waving a crooked finger. He kissed her with hunger and passion. With force. He kissed her with his tongue; with his teeth. He invaded her. He possessed her. His kiss was so utterly male and so utterly him.

Every one of her senses was overwhelmed by the sensations that he was managing to provoke in her at that moment. The taste of his tongue, the smell of his skin, the touch of his hands against her, her heart pounding against her chest so loud that she was certain he could hear it as well. She twisted her fingers into the tufts of his dark hair. It was soft. Somehow, she had always known that it would be. Jackson pulled her hips tighter against his own, his fingers digging into her skin. A moan escaped from somewhere deep inside of Jackson's throat and Lisa whimpered against his mouth. It wasn't enough. She wanted more. She wanted what she had gotten in every single one of her fantasies. Jackson's hand slid around to rest on her buttocks before taking hold of the material and hitching the hem of her dress up just a little. Lisa let out a small sound of approval, which in turn caused Jackson to press himself even harder against her. Sadly, before the two of them could really get going properly, a not so gentle rapping on the hotel suite door sent the flying to opposite sides of the bathroom.

Lisa ran a hand over her flushed face. Her skin felt hot beneath her fingers. She could not believe that she had just done that. Jackson was staring at her, but then all at once, his face reverted once again into a blank mask. She swore that she had just watched him physically meld into a completely different person. He straightened his jacket and walked out the door, though Lisa was certain she had heard him muttering a string of obscenities under his breath.

Lisa remained in the bathroom for a moment, braced against the counter. She took three deep breaths; stress management technique. After she calmed herself down, she turned and splashed some more cold water on her face and then waited, hoping that her cheeks would turn back to their natural color and not so red. She also took the time alone to readjust the hem of her short dress, tugging back down so that it once again covered her read end. Then, she heard raised voices coming from the living room.

When Lisa walking into the living room, her first instinct was to turn right back around and run and hide in the bathroom. She had started to do just that when, damn it, too late.

"Ms. Reisert, Mr. Davis has been very worried about you." Butch said.

"Oh, hell." Lisa muttered.

Blade was standing closer to the door with Jackson, who was, just for the record, looking very unhappy.

"I think that you should come with us, Ms. Reisert." Butch continued.

"Um…well…" Lisa said, struggling to come up with some excuse not to go with them, other than the fact that she really just found them flat out creepy. And she couldn't exactly say, 'sorry, but I wanna stay here and make out some more with my would be assassin!' now could she?

"Come on, miss." Butch said as he took her by the upper arm.

Something primal flashed behind Jackson's eyes. "Hey!" He called. He moved for them, but Blade caught him by the collar and slung him back against the wall.

Mistake, Lisa thought.

Before Blade knew what was coming, Jackson threw an elbow into his face and then delivered a double fisted blow to his stomach before shoving him backwards. Butch dragged Lisa toward the door, and where Jackson had just knocked Blade on his ass. He pulled his gun out of the holster he wore at the back of his belt.

Lisa's eyes widened and she called out to Jackson to warn him, but as soon as Jackson turned toward her voice, Butch hit him in the head with the butt of the gun. Lisa screamed as she watched Jackson sink to the floor. She pounded her fist into Butch's shoulder and tried to twist out of his grip, but only ended up just short of dislocating her shoulder. He flung open the door and dragged her out; Blade came staggering after that. Lisa's face scrunched up involuntarily in her anger and she slammed her balled up fist into Butch's jaw. The blow knocked him sideways and his grasp came loose enough that Lisa managed to tug away from him, but Blade was waiting right there to catch her. Then, she had Butch on one side and Blade on the other, both working together to drag her down the hall. It took both of them to manage her which just went to further Lisa's assumption that they what little brains they did have were shared between the two of them. It was an explanation as to why one didn't seem to function properly without the other.

"We had expected you to come more willingly, Ms. Reisert." Butch said. He had always been the talker of the two.

"Maybe I just don't like you, Butch." Lisa retorted, sneering at him.

Butch snorted and tightened his grip on her arm to the point of bruising her, earning himself a satisfying yelp. They piled into the elevator, Lisa figured she was getting close to breaking some sort of record for riding in elevators, and Blade pushed the button. Now, Blade was tall and beefy and looked like he had chewed on steroids instead of pacifiers as a baby. His hair was dyed peroxide blond and spiky. As his gigantic sausage fingers hit the button for her suite's floor, she couldn't help but think that he seemed like the type of guy that would push all of the buttons once they were about to get off. The idea made her want to kick him in the shins repeatedly for an hour.

Butch was shorter than Blade, but with no less bulk. He was short, but still a good deal taller than herself, which being around guys like Blade and Jake gave him a mad case of little big man syndrome. He had dark hair which he kept semi long as though he thought he was the missing Beatle. He talked a lot, imagining himself to be somewhat of a smartass, but most of the things that he said were pointless and more often than not made no sense whatsoever.

In what seemed like no time at all, Lisa found herself standing in front of her own suite door while Butch knocked. The door swung open to reveal Jake standing there with a nice shiner on his right eye. Lisa smiled. Way to go Neela!

"Miss Lisa, it's so good to see you back safe and sound." He said.

"Yeah, great to be back." Lisa snapped, "Could you tell Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dum here to let me go, now?"

Butch instantly released, and once he saw that his counterpart had let her go, Blade followed suit. Lisa rolled her eyes and shouldered her way in past Jake and stomped into the bedroom.

"Lisa! Oh, my God! I cannot tell you how relieved I am to see you!" Daniel spewed, racing from where he had been sitting on the side of the bed to embrace her. Lisa went completely rigid in his arms and didn't hug him back. She just waited him out; stayed perfectly still until he unwrapped himself from her. He released her from the hug, but took hold of her shoulders and held her at arm's length, bending at the knees to lower himself to her eyelevel.

"Are you okay?" he asked, "Did that man hurt you?"

Did that man hurt you? Lisa thought. That man. That man whom he had never seen before in his life. It was an Oscar worthy performance. Bastard.

"I'm fine." Lisa said, brushing his arms away from her and grabbing her suitcase to take with her into the bathroom. Once she had her privacy, she stripped out of the ruined tight black dress that earlier that evening she had liked so much and dropped it into the trashcan. She looked at herself in the mirror. Tomorrow, she would be covered in black and blue bruises. With a sigh, she pulled on a pair of jeans, white tank top, and an oversized light blue button up shirt that had once belonged to her father. It was a substitute for him and right now, she needed his comfort. Her whole world had just taken a rather unexpected turn and she needed to feel some security. She brushed out her hair and pulled it up into a messy bun. It was comfortable and out of her face.

When she came out of the bathroom, she sat down on the edge of the bed and started to pull on a pair of socks. Daniel was standing by the window with his back to her. He looked like he had been getting ready to go to bed dressed in just his dress slacks and an untucked white dress shirt; his feet were bare. Yeah. He had been really worried about her. His shoulders were square and tense and he stood with his hands on his hips.

"So, tell me, Lisa, sweetheart," he said all of the sudden. He turned to face her, and the expression on his face was unlike any Lisa had ever seen on him. It was cold and distant and sharp. Whoever this man in front of her was, he was not the Daniel that she had known. Or at least the one that she had thought that she had known. He looked emotionless. Soulless. "What _exactly _did Rippner say to you?"

**Author's Note: **Well, that's it for now. I hope I haven't disappointed anybody too badly. Let me know what you think!


	9. Chapter Eight: Reunion

**Author's Note: **Once again, merely saying thank you doesn't seem to be enough to express my gratitude for all of the reviews. I appreciate the feedback so much! Here's the next chapter and I trust that you'll let me know if I slip up. I'll stop my yakking now and let you read. I hope you enjoy and don't forget, as always, to let me know what you think!

**Chapter Eight: Reunion**

Every sense in Lisa's body sharpened and came to full alert as red flags went up all through her mind. She hesitated at Daniel's question; just a beat too long. She gave him time to speak again.

"Jake told me that Butch said you were reluctant to come back here." He said, taking a step toward her. His eyes had taken on an unfamiliar and dangerous glare. Lisa felt fear creeping like a slug up the back of her throat. She swallowed, fighting the sensation, choking it back down. She couldn't remember having ever seen him like this. She pulled on her left tennis shoe. "So, I'm a little confused, _Lisa._ Why would you be so apt to stay with this man, _Lisa_? You wanna explain that to me, _Lisa_?"

Her fingers trembled as she fumbled with her shoe laces. Rape, assassination coercion, and now this! Fate seemed bound and determined to turn her into a victim.

Yeah, well, Lisa thought.

Daniel jerked her up to her feet, "Tell me, _LISA_!"

_Fuck _fate!

Lisa shrieked and shoved him away from her. He landed with a bounce on the bed on his back. Lisa grabbed her other shoe and raced for the door before he could right himself. Once she was out the bedroom door, Daniel call out the dogs. "Catch her!"

Blade was the first to make an attempt. Good thing he wasn't the smartest of the bunch. Using the foot that was actually in a shoe, she kicked him in the knee, then hit him in nose with the other shoe that she still held in her hand. She seemed to be finding herself wearing only one shoe more often than not tonight. Blade stumbled back and fell down the steps, landing firmly on his rear. Lisa leapt over him. Next was Butch. A simple lamp to the head took care of him for the moment. It shattered over his skull and he was out before he had even hit the floor. Then, came the only one she really had to worry about. Jake. Jake, who actually possessed some semblance of intelligence; not to mention the brute strength to back it up. Lisa faltered a step as Jake took up position in front of her. Tricky situation, this one.

Lisa sidestepped; Jake countered. Lisa sucked her lungs full of air and then blew it out again, willing her body to calm down. She could do this. Hell! She had bested Jackson Rippner! This buzz cut Neanderthal should be no problem.

Behind her, Lisa heard Blade getting to his feet. She had bloodied his nose, but apparently she hadn't hit him hard enough to take him completely out of commission. Great. Now she had to deal with both the Neanderthal and the nitwit at the same time. Her mind speedily hatched a half cocked plan. Maybe, just maybe, she could make this work to her advantage. They came at her together. She had known that they would. Since she had anticipated their joint effort, she ducked down, dropping to her knees. Like a scene out of a cartoon, the two men slammed into one another and bounced backward off of each other. Lisa took her chances with the distraction. She darted around Jake, but he reached out from where he had fallen to the floor and encircled her ankle with his long thick fingers. The result was more than inevitable. She went down. Hard.

The plan had been a gamble at best, but she had had to try. Now, she lay on her side and kicked at Jake, but her bare foot did little damage. Daniel came bursting from the bedroom. The look in his eyes, which to Lisa had always been so kind, sent her even further into a panic. She needed to get out of that room, and she needed to get out at once. She twisted onto her rear end and scooted down closer to Jake, bending her knees. She braced herself on her hands before thrusting her leg in a downward motion, the heel of her foot connecting solidly with Jake's face. Nothing like a fresh threat to really inspire a person's inner muse. Jake released his grasp on her leg and covered his face with both hands, moaning into his palms.

Lisa scrambled to her feet as Daniel closed the distance between them. She pulled the door open as soon as she reached it, only to have it slam closed again by Daniel's outstretched arm. With his free hand, he spun Lisa around to face him and shoved her back against the door, the back of her head smacking against its hard wooden surface. A strangled hum of pain squeezed through her closed lips and she squeezed her eyes shut tightly to fight off the oncoming headache. Who was this man? Because he sure as hell wasn't the man that she had agreed to spend the rest of her life with. That man had been kind. Sure, he was a little over attentive, but he had never been cruel. Now, he was knocking her into walls. She was suddenly taken back to her house on that fateful day when Jackson had slammed her into the wall just before pitching her over the stairway railing. The memory almost made her smile because once again she realized…she had been through a whole lot worse that the likes of Daniel Davis would ever be able to put her through. On his best day, Daniel couldn't scare her the way that Jackson had. She opened her eyes and stared him down, challenge burning brightly in their dark green depths.

"Lisa, cupcake," Daniel said, his tone soft and calm, "I don't want to hurt you. You know I wouldn't hurt you."

"Really, Danny," Lisa snapped, "Cause I gotta tell you, having my head bashed back against a door kind of hurts."

Daniel smiled at her, but it wasn't his smile. It was the twisted smile of someone different; someone malicious and sadistic; someone that Lisa had never met. "Oh, honey, I'm sorry about that." He said, his voice still the freaky calm tone. He didn't pull it off quite as well as Jackson did, but it was effective nonetheless.

"I'm sorry, too." Lisa said.

"For what?"

"For this." With that, Lisa brought her knee crashing upwards directly into Daniel's balls. Once he doubled over, she punched him in the face, once. Twice. Then, she leaned back against the door, put her foot on his shoulder, and shoved him backward with all of her might. Daniel fell to the floor, his knees drawn up to his chest and his hands between his thighs. Lisa flung the door open and sprinted through it and down the hall. She hit the button for the elevator, but she didn't wait for the doors to open. She was really starting to hate elevators. Instead, she opted for the stairwell, pausing just long enough to slip into her shoe. She thumped down the steps as quickly as she could, sometimes two at a time.

She felt like she had already taken ten flights, when she heard the hastened footsteps coming from above her. She had hoped that she would have had more time. She had hoped that they would think that she had jumped the elevator. She had hoped that maybe all four of them would keel over from sudden unexplainable heart failure all at once, but like usual, what she hoped and wished for had little effect on reality. She saw a sign that had the number 28 printed on it in big bold black print and remembered a snippet of conversation with Daniel. Level 28 was off limits because it was under construction of something along those lines. Making her mind up, she ducked inside; closing the door as quietly as she could.

Meanwhile…

Jackson blinked open his eyes, wincing at the painful throbbing in his head. He reached a hand up and touched the bump that had formed beside his temple, just above his ear. When he retracted his hand, his palm was smudged with blood. That bastard had cold cocked him! Oh, he would pay for that. Just as his mind began running over all the various ways he had been trained to torture people, it dawned on him. Lisa! Where to hell was Lisa?

Okay, he thought to himself, she wouldn't let those idiots keep hold of her for long. She was too damn smart for that. All he needed to do was figure out where she would go once she had escaped. He sprang up to his feet and was out the door, ignoring the lightheadedness that nearly overtook him as he rose. If there was only one useful thing that his training had done for him, though there were actually very many, it had taught him how to ignore physical pain for incredibly long periods of time. He didn't have time for the pain.

Something hit him belatedly. Lisa wasn't the only one missing. Where was Neela? Just like with the pain, he didn't have the time to worry about Neela. Neela could deal with Neela. And though she could be a little absent minded at times, he had trained her well. She was a big girl who could more than adequately take care of herself. Right now, he needed to focus on Lisa. He needed to find Lisa.

As for his job, he considered it to be on hiatus.

Funny. He had always been the ultimate professional. The job came before everything else. He went in cold, untainted, emotionless. Even others in the same line of work as him thought that he was one heartless scary son of a bitch. There were benefits to having the people you work with be terrified of you. One petite redhead and all of that went right out the window. He acted out of anger, jealousy, desire; he let his emotions outweigh his better judgment.

Lisa's eyes darted back and forth, taking in the hallway. It was…well, eerie was probably the best word to describe it. Half of the walls were missing, there were no doors at all, and practically everything was draped in large plastic sheets. The ceiling tiles had been ripped out, leaving the entire level very poorly lit. That, and the lights that were there tended to flicker on and off. It was like a scene from some B rated horror movie and Lisa did not appreciate having the starring role.

She stepped slowly and carefully over the plastic covered floor, paying attention to any noises around her. If someone came in, she wanted to know it. Her eyes landed on a forgotten toolbox, and she removed a heavy claw hammer from it. It wasn't much, but she worked with what she had. She tucked it into the side of the waistband of her jeans and continued making her way through the hall.

The light sound of plastic crinkling made her spin around, her breath catching in the back of her throat. No one there. She released the breath. Just her mind playing more stupid tricks on her. She shook her head at herself and turned back around.

Blade smiled at her.

With a gasp, Lisa spun again on her heel, every intention of making a break for the stairs. Butch had appeared, like Blade, from out of nowhere.

"Ms. Reisert." He acknowledged as Blade wrapped around her from behind, pinning her arms to her sides.

"Let me go!" Lisa hissed, earning an amused laugh from Butch.

"Wait a second, wait a second, wait a second!" A familiar voice sang, "Let me get this straight…"

Lisa smiled as she saw Butch's eyes widen, then narrow as he focused his attention on the other side of Blade. Blade turned around, holding Lisa in front of him like a human shield. Jackson stood there, hands on his hips, a look of false thoughtfulness on his handsome face.

"It's Butch…" he continued, "And Blade, right? Let me guess, you had to start working for Davis when the WWF turned you down?"

In an instant, Blade had dropped one arm from around Lisa and drawn his gun. He had it aimed at Jackson's head. Jackson responded with a simple smirk and a roll of his shoulders. Preparing himself for action, Lisa thought.

"Easy there, juice monkey." Jackson said, with a slick grin, "Not to sound cliché, but, all I want is the girl."

At this point, Butch had also pulled out his gun and trained it on Jackson as he stepped out from behind Blade.

"A man of few words. I can respect that." Jackson said as he held his hands up in what appeared to be a gesture of surrender and Butch moved around behind him, fixing the gun not an inch from the back of his head. Lisa discreetly quirked an eyebrow at Jackson and he tossed her a sly smile. It was almost frightening how easy it had been for them to fall into step with one another. But then again, for the past two years, neither of them had thought about hardly anything but each other. Hell, the fact that they were so in tune with each other's thoughts was practically a natural occurrence. One could even go so far as to call it inevitable.

Lisa swiftly pulled the hammer from her waistband and swung it down into an unsuspecting Blade's kneecap. Blade howled as the bone of his patella shattered and his knee bent back in the wrong direction. At the same instant, Jackson spun around, catching Butch by the wrist so he fired through the many layers of plastic before the bullet finally hit sheetrock. He punched Butch in the mouth and then kicked him in the stomach with the flat of his foot.

Blade released his hold on Lisa as he dropped to the ground and she swung her weapon down again, knocking the gun from his hand and sending it skittering across the floor. Then, using the flat side of the hammer, she whacked him across the face, sending blood flying from his mouth. He tried to crawl back away from her, his movements faltering due to the odd angle of his leg but Lisa moved with him. She wielded the hammer like a baseball bat, connecting its backside with his ribcage, the clawed teeth puncturing his side. He screamed again and fell completely to the floor, clutching his hands to his bloody side. Lisa, doubled over at her waist, put her foot on his stomach and pulled the hammer from his side as though it were a pickaxe. She straightened herself, taking in deep gasps of breath as she looked down at him, surveying what damage she had done. He may be in a lot of pain for quite some time after this, but she didn't think that he would die from any of the wounds that she had inflicted upon him. Her eyes traveled down to the lower part of his body. She winced when she saw that his bone had popped through the material of his pants. She dropped the bloodied hammer and turned away from him, unable to bear the sight anymore.

Jackson twisted Butch's wrist until he dropped the gun, screaming through clenched teeth at Jackson. He rammed his free fist into Jackson's ribs. Once. Twice. Three times. Jackson let out a grunt with each blow, but didn't release the other man's hand. He did let go with one hand, only to immediately close it around Butch's neck. He used the momentum of his body to turn them both. Throwing Butch off balance, he was able to slam him into the floor. Once he had him down, Jackson planted his knee into Butch's chest to hold him to the ground and reached for the knife tucked safely at his back. Butch reacted at once to the sight of the K-bar, bringing his own knee up hard into the small of Jackson's back. Jackson arched with a groan and Butch shoved him off of him and leapt to his feet. When Jackson twisted onto his knees, Butch kicked the dagger away from him. Lisa, who had been watching from the sidelines, attacked Butch from behind, but he easily threw her off of him and she landed with a thud. Jackson had moved to retrieve his knife, but Butch tackled him before he could get to it. He straddled Jackson's hips and pressed his thumbs into his Adam's apple, cutting off Jackson's air supply. Jackson writhed beneath the weight of the bigger man, but he couldn't seem to get out from under him and his knife was too far for him to reach. His eyes darted back and forth, desperation shining heavily behind them. Desperate was not something that Jackson did well. He had rarely allowed himself to be put in the position where it was an option. He needed to push it back down. Calm down. Focus. That's when he spotted a toolbox. The very same toolbox, in fact, from which Lisa had drawn her weapon; and it was just within an arm's length.

Lisa pushed herself up from the ground slowly, her joints stiff and uncooperative and screaming in protest at the idea of any movement. She ignored the pain as best she could and continued to lift herself up. She had just gotten to her knees when she saw how Jackson's face had begun to turn blue. No, she thought. She had to help him. She had to do something. Sucking in a deep breath, she felt her fingertips brush against and then close around the handle of the hammer.

"Hey, Butch!" Lisa called.

The bulky man glanced over his shoulder at her just as she hurled the heavy tool in his direction. It struck him in the middle of his back, causing him to cry out and loosen his grip of Jackson's throat. The cry didn't last long though. As soon as Jackson saw his chance, he rammed the flat head screwdriver from the toolbox up through the underside of Butch's chin. He stilled instantly and his body sagged completely limp on top of Jackson. With a groan of effort, Jackson rolled the lifeless body off of him and climbed to his feet. Lisa stared at him, her entire body shuddering as she breathed in great heaves and fought the urge to cry. Jackson looked into her eyes, which glistened with unshed tears, and he had the strangest, unfamiliar impulse to hold her and tell her that it was going to be okay. He stifled it, shoved it aside, and ignored it. There were still things that required his special brand of attention.

Lisa could not believe the feeling of relief that flowed through her when she realized that Jackson was okay. But, at the same time, she felt queasy after watching him kill a man with a screwdriver. A screwdriver! Yes, the man had been trying to kill him, but it still just made her feel so uneasy. There for about five seconds in his hotel suite, she had let herself forget about his brutality. The sound of Blade moaning in pain behind her was the only noise, now. It filled her ears. It was a sound that she was certain would stay with her for the rest of her life. She didn't want to believe that she had been the one to cause another human being to make those God awful sounds. Jackson stooped over and picked up Butch's gun from the floor. Then, without so much as word, he walked past Lisa and she watch in horror as he fired three bullets into Blade's head.

As soon as the third shot was fired, Lisa realized that she was running. She hadn't even noticed it when her feet had started to move, but her body had told her to get the hell away from Jackson Rippner. Blade had been completely immobile; there was no reason to kill him. There was no reason to shoot him that many times. She couldn't be near Jackson, he was too dangerous. How could she have let herself forget who he really was? What he really was? He was still Jackson Rippner and he was a killer. Beautiful or not, it didn't change the fact that he was indeed a cold blooded murderer.

She hadn't made it barely ten steps when she felt him at her heels; felt his hot breath on the back of her neck; and then he had her. He caught her around the waist and pulled her up just short of the door to the stairs. She kicked her feet backward at his legs and clawed at his hands, but he held tight.

"Lisa. Lisa." He said into her hair. His voice had taken on that soothing tone that she had heard from him earlier. How could he speak to her like that after what she had just witnessed him do? "Lisa, calm down. Please, calm down. I'm not the one trying to hurt you this time."

Oh, how she wanted to believe him. Every bone in her body was aching to believe him. But, how could she? The words he said and that sweet hushed tone in which he said them stirred something inside of her; reopening an old wound that had never fully healed. It hurt and she couldn't bear to suppress it any longer. It took too much energy that she didn't have. The tears came.

"But you do." She said, hating how weak her voice sounded even to herself. She stopped fighting him; stopped struggling. Instead, her body sagged back against him, giving in to the sadness and exhaustion. "All you do is hurt me."

Jackson didn't say anything. There was really nothing that he could say. She was right and there wasn't anything that he could say at that moment that would make everything he had put her through okay. So, with a breath of momentary self loathing, he kissed her hair and held her to him, offering her his strength. As he felt her shoulders trembling against him from her sobs, he realized that he was more determined than he had ever been. He was going to be there for her. With every breath that he had in him, he would protect her. He would guard her against anything, if she would let him. He may not be capable of being that sweet, tender boy next door that you bring home to meet the parents, but he could sure as hell make certain that no one else was ever able to hurt her again. Then, as if she had read his mind, Lisa spun around and threw her arms around his neck. She buried her face in his chest and cried into his shirt, twisting her fists into the expensive material as though he were her only lifeline.

He didn't tell her that everything was going to be all right, because he didn't know if it would be. He just held her tightly and possessively and let her cry. She needed to. She just needed a moment to let out some of the steam. After another moment, his jaw tightened in a second bout with self loathing when he had to push her away from him slightly. He took her face in his hands and forced her to look up at him, wiping the tears from her cheeks with the pads of his thumbs. As they looked at one another, the past didn't matter anymore. Not between them.

"We need to keep moving, Leese." He said, forcing his voice to be neutral, "Suck it up."

Lisa's eyes narrowed and she glared at him as he had known that she would. However, he also knew that her anger would give her fuel to burn. It would give her the energy that she needed. She could feed off of anger. It was more productive than sadness. All sadness did was drain the body of its much needed adrenaline. With anger, she could be proactive. He took her by the hand and lead her down the hall, gathering his knife and both Butch and Blade's guns as they went. He paused only to check the two dead men for extra clips, only finding one on Butch. They went into the stairwell and down one flight, then Jackson lead them to the elevators in the hall. He pushed the button and as they waited for the car, he turned to face Lisa.

"Okay, crash course." He said, holding one of the guns out in front of her. He demonstrated every action as he spoke, "This is the safety. It needs to be clicked this way for the gun to be dangerous. When you run out of rounds, hold the gun straight and push this. The magazine will fall out," he caught the clip in his hand and then shoved it back into the gun, "and you put the fresh one in like this. Now, you only have the one extra clip so be smart about what you shoot at. When you do shoot, look down the barrel, breathe, and _squeeze _the trigger. Don't pull it. If you pull, you jerk the gun and your shot will be off its mark."

He handed the gun to her. She looked it over and, with a shuddering breath, she tucked it into the back of her jeans; after flipping the safety on of course. Then she shoved the extra magazine into her back pocket. "I thought you said you were lousy with guns?"

"Oh, I know how to handle one and how to fire one." Jackson grinned, checking the ammo of the gun he had chosen for himself. "I just suck."

"That's comforting."

Jackson flashed her another cheeky grin and she had to smile. She never would have imagined Jackson admitting that _he _sucked at anything. When he smiled like that, he looked so young, she thought despite their current situation. His eyes twinkled with some secret amusement and he reminded her very much of a mischievous teenager.

The elevator doors opened with that familiar _ding_, breaking her from her thoughts and drawing both of their gazes. Lisa moved to step inside, but her stomach wretched and she staggered back against the wall, her hands flying up to cover her mouth. Jackson stood perfectly still, his stare steady and unwavering. Strangled sobs escaped from Lisa's lips, the pitiful sound leaking through the fingers clasped tightly over them. She closed her eyes as tightly as she could, but it did next to nothing to ward off the searing image of what she had just seen. Her legs wobbled violently beneath her, before she finally turned, fell down to her knees, and vomited.

There was blood splattered on the walls, all over the floor, on the ceiling. Chunks of flesh littered the puddles of blood which had pooled all throughout the carpeted floor. It was macabre and sickening and disturbingly surreal. And the smell, oh, my God, the smell! No one should ever be forced to be subjected to a smell like that. The face a contorted into a twisted version of itself, forever frozen in an expression of pain and fear and terror. Mouth hanging open in a silent scream. Lying in the corner of the elevator, a tangled heap of blood and bone and tissue; staring at them through once lovely sightless brown eyes…was Neela.

**Author's Note: **Well, that's it for this time. I'm anxious to hear your thoughts so this is just a friendly little reminder to review!


	10. Chapter Nine: Swinging

**Author's Note: **Thanks again for all of the wonderful reviews! Here's the next chapter. Don't really have much else to say, so I'll just let you read. Hope you enjoy and let me know what you think!

**Chapter Nine: Swinging**

Still on the floor, Lisa's body continued to convulse. Her vision had since blurred and gone fuzzy around the edges. Her stomach was still retching, threatening to dispel more of her bodily fluids; if there were any more left in her. She clutched both hands to the sides of her forehead, chin quivering, fresh tears springing from her eyes. The air from the elevator wafted out into the hall, permeated with the smell of blood and what likened to the stench of ground hamburger meat. The smell clung to Lisa's nostrils and in the back of her throat, gagging her. She wanted to throw up again or spit or something; anything to get the taste of that smell out of her mouth. She had never seen anything as horrible as what was crumpled in the corner of that elevator. Nobody deserved to die that way. Neela had been, in a word, butchered.

Jackson stared down at the remains of his protégé for a moment before reaching into the elevator and pushing the button for the top floor. He watched until the doors slid closed and he heard the gentle hum of the car lifting away from them. Then, he turned to Lisa, his face completely blank; expressionless. A little voice in the back of his mind told him that she needed comfort…but, he ignored it; there was no time. He reached down and took hold of her under her arms, lifting her to her feet. "We'll take the stairs." He said.

Lisa stared at him for a moment as though he were some sort of monster. Then, she began shaking her head back and forth, her eyelids pressed closed. "I can't."

"Lisa, we need to keep moving." Jackson said, his voice flat and matter of fact as if what he was saying was the most logical thing in the world. In a sense, it was.

Lisa opened her eyes and looked up at him. They were shining and sad and very haunted. She had seen too much today. "Who did that to her?" Why would someone…do that!" Her words were rushed and ran together. She was on the brink of hysteria. She twisted herself away from his grasp and tried to walk away from him, but her legs felt as though they had turned to jelly and she crumpled once again to the floor, choking on her own sobs.

Jackson knew what the sight of Neela's mutilated body had done to her psyche. He also knew that she didn't understand why he wasn't responding in a similar fashion. In a million years, he would never be able to explain to her the things that he had seen; the things that he had slowly and steadily become indifferent to. To him, this was all just part of the job; a job that he was good at. Great at. The best even. And right now, the professional inside of him was telling him that they didn't have time for her to have a breakdown just yet. But, there was no way she was going to be able to maneuver down the stairs in her current condition. He reached over and pushed the button for the elevators once again, muttering a silent hope that it would be a different one. Thankfully, the one at the far end of the hall opened invitingly to them. He said nothing; just gathered Lisa up into his arms and carried her into the elevator where he set her back down on her feet.

She had become despondent and zoned out; as if she were somewhere else in her head. He didn't blame her. He needed to get her out of here, away from all of this, but he needed her to be active and alert. He needed her to be the Lisa that she had been ten minutes ago; he needed the Lisa from the flight. He snapped his fingers in front of her face.

"Wake up, Leese." He said firmly.

Her brow was furrowed and her eyelids were halfway closed over the front of her glazed green eyes. In the back of her mind, she kept seeing the body of that woman. Neela. Not just some woman; a woman that she had known, however briefly. Beautiful, supermodel-esque Neela…who had seemed so alive; so full of energy. She was also a trained killer. Who would have been able to get to her like that? It didn't seem that it should have even been possible. The smell was still in her nose and mouth, every so often activating her gag reflex. Somewhere far away, she heard Jackson's voice but she couldn't quite make out what he was saying.

Jackson snapped his fingers in front of Lisa's face again. "Lisa, snap out of it!" He said, his voice stern and demanding.

This time, Lisa blinked twice and looked at him. Then, she looked around as though noticing her surroundings for the first time, and upon realizing that she was in an elevator, she freaked out. She screamed and began looking down, searching for Neela's body. If she could have climbed up the walls, she would have.

Jackson reached for her arm, but Lisa turned and slapped his hand away from her. Okay, maybe he preferred despondent. He took a breath, rolled his shoulders, and then with lightening quick speed, he snatched her by the upper arms and slammed her into the far side of the elevator, using the length of his body against hers to hold her there. How many times now had they found themselves in this very position? But somehow, this time was different from all the others. He wrapped his arms around her as she struggled against him; needing to fight; needing any kind of release. Soon enough, however, her body relaxed into his embrace. Her fists twisted into the material of his jacket and she clung to him, weeping onto his shoulder. Too much, too soon, Jackson thought as he placed a gentle kiss on her cheekbone. Lisa was tough girl. She had stood up against him more than once, which was more than he could say about most people. He scared the hell out of men twice his size, but not Lisa. She wasn't afraid to defend herself. But, there was no way she could have ever been mentally prepared for anything as grotesque as a mutilated corpse.

"All right, Leese," Jackson said softly, stepping back from her, but keeping his hands on her upper arms, "I need you to pull it together."

Lisa nodded at him, but in reality, she wasn't altogether certain whether or not she could get herself together. She had just witnessed the rather brutal deaths of three people. In a million years, she had never thought that something like that would happen to her. Of course, she had never expected to be targeted by a professional assassin either. Or be raped. Since when had life ever taken her expectations into consideration? Why would it start now?

"Okay." Jackson said, bringing her out of her thoughts. He brought his hands away from her shoulders and cupped them on either side of her face, his thumbs wiping the tears from her red cheeks for what felt like the millionth time. She was so sick of crying in front of him. He probably thought she was the weakest woman on the planet with how much she cried around him. Lisa looked up into his eyes. It was one of those rare moments when they were nothing but two oceans filled with warmth and tenderness and concern. There was no underlying meaning. No hidden agenda. She had only ever seen his eyes like that one other time and that had lasted for no more than an instant, and he had masked it right away. But, he wasn't trying to hide it from her now. It touched her. She put her hand on his cheek, smiling at the feel of his rough stubble against her palm. She rose to her tiptoes and kissed his lips. Softly. There was no overwhelming intensity or fire like before. No passion. And it ended just as quickly as it had started. The kiss had served its purpose though. It had given them both a bit of comfort; a feeling that Jackson had never really experienced and hadn't been altogether prepared for.

Part of Jackson's mind was screaming a long line of obscenities at him. No! it was saying, the was not good! This was showing weakness. Weakness was not an option! The other part of his mind told that part to shut the hell up. This was Lisa. That was the voice that he opted to listen to.

All of the sudden, the elevator jolted to a stop and the doors opened. Instinct sent the two of them flying apart the same way it had done earlier in the bathroom of Jackson's suite. Lisa retreated back into the corner and Jackson took stance somewhat in front of her with his knees slightly bent, arm at his back ready to draw his weapon. Brenda Patoleski, the _good fella _from New York's wife, came stumbling into the elevator, her bleached hair mussed and her dress askew. She held a drink in her hand and reeked of gin, as though the liquor itself was emanating from her pores. The _good fella _himself, Anthony, came in behind her. He was in just slightly better condition than his wife. Brenda hiccupped as the doors slid shut.

"Leslie!" she exclaimed when she noticed Lisa.

Lisa fought hard not to roll her eyes. Everything that she and Jackson had been through in one night, and now she had to deal with these two as well? Life sucked. Still, she forced a tight lipped smile and didn't correct Brenda's mistaken name. At just that moment, Brenda caught an eyeful of Jackson and Lisa watched in disgust as the blonde puffed out her chest a little bit more, trying to draw his attention to the ample mounds of silicone. Anthony's response to Jackson was somewhat different. He eyed him with half suspicion and half drunken arrogance.

"Who is this guy, doll?" he said in his Brooklyn accent, crushing a piece of ice from his drink between his pearly white thousand dollar capped teeth as he spoke.

Lisa crossed her arms over her chest and leaned one shoulder against the wall. "This is Daniel's cousin, Martin." She said without missing a beat. One corner of Jackson's mouth twitched. Always thinking on her feet, his Lisa.

"Oh, how ya doin'?" Anthony said, melting all of the sudden into the buddy buddy politico, offering his hand, "Anthony Patoleski."

For a brief moment, Jackson looked at Anthony's hand like it was something vile that had crawled out from the garbage disposal, but quickly fastened a broad smile on his face and shook it. "Martin Donovan. It's a pleasure."

Lisa felt herself smirk. It hadn't even surprised her that he had known Daniel's cousin's full name. Her face dropped though, when Brenda ever so discreetly sidled up a little closer to Jackson's side. Too close, if you asked Lisa. Her husband was right there! Did the girl have no modesty? Shame? But then, she caught a glimpse of Anthony, who seemed to be perfectly content with staring at her own chest. She self consciously tugged the collar of her father's shirt together with one hand. Anthony mimicked her stance, leaning against the wall opposite her, clanking the ice around in his glass. He licked his lips and quirked his eyebrows at her in a way that made her cringe; a way that was filled with lewd insinuation. He was doing nothing to help Lisa with her discomfort.

Brenda hiccupped again and tilted her head a little to the side, looking up at Jackson with manufactured wide doe eyed innocence. "You have very pretty eyes." She slurred to him, holding her drink with both hands, using her index finger to guide the straw suggestively into her mouth.

"Thank you." Jackson smiled. Mr. Smooth. All charm. Nothing but candy for a woman like Brenda. That was Jackson, though. One moment, he was cold blooded, conniving, and manipulative. The next moment, he was simply dripping with charisma and appeal and still very manipulative. The quintessential specimen of allure and male sexuality all bundled up into one very pretty package and wrapped in an Italian designer suit.

Brenda took the smile for encouragement. "I bet you have women telling you that all the time, though, don't you?"

Jackson ducked his head in mock sheepishness and shoved his hands into his pants pockets. Maybe if he pretended to by shy, she would back off and leave him alone. No such luck. All that his ploy seemed to accomplish was the enhancement of his boyish charm. A grin like a Cheshire cat on her collagen plumped lips, Brenda strategically pressed the outer swell of her breast against the crook of his arm. Out of the corner of his eye, Jackson spotted the way Anthony was eyeing Lisa like she was a filet mignon cooked to perfection. Brenda's delicate, manicured fingers played with the buttons on the front of his shirt. His mind suddenly put all of the pieces together.

Oh, God! He thought. He and Lisa were being tag-teamed by a couple of swingers! He wondered how good partner switching would look in the public opinion polls.

The doors opened as the elevator came to a stop in the lobby. Jackson motioned for Lisa to exit ahead of him, which she did. Quickly. Pretty much at a run in fact. Anthony watched her leave; his eyes on her ass. Jackson fixed him with a pointed stare before following her, prying Brenda's clingy hands off of him as he went.

The doors closed again, cutting them off from the way too open minded pair. Jackson was all for trying new things, but that had just been wrong! He had to jog to catch up to Lisa, who did not slow her pace to wait for him. She was still on edge and fiddling with the collar of her shirt.

"You know," she said once he had reached her side, "I am really starting to develop a hatred for elevators."

"You okay?" Jackson asked, his hand finding the small of her back.

She looked at him sharply, "Well, if I didn't feel like I needed a shower before, I sure as hell need one now." The remark was lighthearted and glib. It was also phony as hell, but Jackson played along.

He flashed her a sideways grin, "With a bottle of rubbing alcohol and a steel wool pad. That's not really what I meant, though."

"I know what you meant." Lisa said, her tone going flat once more. "You gonna tell me everything's gonna be okay?"

"I don't lie."

"Make an exception."

"Everything's gonna be okay." He said without conviction.

Lisa smiled. It was a genuine, albeit sad smile. "Liar."

Without so much as a glance at any of the people now occupying the lobby, they went through the front doors of the hotel. Lisa pulled her arms tighter around herself to ward off the cold. They turned and headed in the direction of the parking ramp. When a pair of headlights hit them, Jackson moved his hand from Lisa's back, taking her by the elbow instead and pulling her a little closer to him. His eyes never left the car as it passed them by, the passengers inside sparing them not even a glance. The elevator would have been the faster, more ideal route to the garage, but if he had had to spend one more minute in that tiny enclosed space with those people, he was fairly certain he would have killed one or both of them. He probably would have enjoyed it, too. Jackson felt Lisa shiver beneath his grasp.

"My God, it is freezing." She said. She took a moment to mentally rejoice in the fact that she had changed into her jeans instead of into the flimsy pajamas that she had brought with her. Thank God for the small victories. It was the small meaningless things like that that kept her sane in situations like this.

Jackson looked at her. They hadn't been outside for more than three minutes and her lips had already turned blue. He cursed himself for not getting her a coat, even though the rational part of his brain reminded him that they hadn't had the time. He went over a checklist of the inventory of his car in his mind. There were a couple of blankets in the trunk. He would get them for her as soon as they were a nice safe distance away from the hotel. They made their way down the parking ramp into the garage. Lisa cast a sideways glance in Jackson's direction and noticed something odd.

"Why can't I see your breath?" she asked.

Jackson grinned. When he spoke, she saw the air passing from between his lips. "Breathing technique. It's a habit in cold weather, but it comes in handy when you need to stay under the radar."

"You're gonna have to teach me that one."

Jackson chuckled deep in his throat, that rough masculine sound that only men seem to possess, fishing in the pocket of his slacks for his car keys as they walked through the garage.

"So," Lisa said, trying to sniffle as discreetly as she could, "where are we going?"

Jackson turned to her again. Blue lips, red nose, face pale and drained of all of its natural color. Her eyes were red and swollen from all the crying that she had done over the course of the night. Admiration swelled in his chest. Lisa was a slender, petite, young woman. Her outward appearance made her seem the epitome of the word delicate. He didn't think he had ever seen her look more vulnerable than she did right at that moment. However, he knew that she had more strength than any woman he had ever met in his life.

"I think it would be best if I got you out of here." He said.

"What about your job?" she asked

"I think it's safe to say that I'm not going to finish this job. That seems to happen a lot when you're around."

"You're not gonna kill Doug Claustine?"

"Chalk it up to a conflict of interests."

Lisa smiled at him; again genuine, but sad. She pulled her elbow out of his hand, then looped her arm through his, bringing them a little closer together. "I'm glad you're not going to kill him."

Jackson twitched an eyebrow at her comment. There was something that he had been wanting to know since this entire mess had started. "Why?"

"Uh, because killing is bad." Lisa said, widening her eyes for effect.

"Don't be cute." Jackson said, completely serious, "I mean it. What made you so concerned about this Claustine guy?"

"He's just a nice man with a really nice wife."

"That's it?"

"Yeah."

Jackson sighed and looked downward, pressing his lips together in a thin tight line. His body language told Lisa one thing. He didn't believe her.

"Listen to me," she said and stopped walking, forcing him to stop and look at her.

"Lisa, we need to keep going." Jackson said, tugging at her arm, but she jerked away from him and took a step back.

"Not until you listen." She said.

Jackson did not look happy. He paced back and forth three times his frustration evident on his face. But, finally, he turned to her, planted his feet firmly on the ground, propped his hands up on his hips and locked his eyes on hers.

"I just met the Clautine's tonight." Lisa began. She didn't know why she felt she had to justify herself to him, but she just felt like it was the right thing to do. "Ellen was like the only woman in that room who wasn't looking at me like I was some kind of bimbo. She was very kind to me. She told me that she and Doug have been married for more that twenty years! If anything ever happened to him, it would kill her and…I…I just didn't think that she deserved that kind of pain."

Jackson's face didn't change; didn't move a muscle; not even a twitch. But his eyes did. It was subtle, but it was more than enough for Lisa. He reached over, putting his hand at the back of her head and pulling her toward him. He placed one quick soft kiss on her forehead and then looked down in her eyes.

"Okay," he said, "let's go."

No, not yet, Lisa thought. She didn't want the moment to be over, yet. She moved to hug her arms around his waist and keep him there for just a second longer, but a voice tore through the air and broke their tender moment.

"Lisa!"

Just like that, Jackson had her by the wrist and was running at full speed with her stumbling along behind him. She threw a glance over her shoulder just as Daniel and Jake came sprinting toward them from the elevators.

Jackson pressed the 'unlock' button on his keychain and the taillights on a black BMW beamer winked at them from just under five yards away. How was it possible for so short a distance to seem like a million miles, Lisa wondered to herself as Jackson pulled ever insistently at her arm.

"Get in!" he instructed.

They both dove into the car and Jackson revved the engine to life. Lisa tried not to be amazed at how easily he had started the car considering the speed with which he was moving. His motions were steady and quick with a precision that could only be described as masterful. It doesn't seem like placing a key in the ignition of a car and turning it should be that impressive, but if you could see just how fast Jackson actually did this, you would understand her fascination. It was clearly not his first time leaving somewhere in a hurry. He swerved the car back out of the parking space, then slammed the shifter into drive and pinned the accelerator to the floorboard. The beamer lurched forward, tires squealing.

Jake and Daniel were forced to literally dive to the side out of the way as Jackson came hurtling toward them. He muttered a curse word under his breath as they dodged him, but he didn't swerve for the kill. Too dangerous with Lisa in the car with him. If he missed them and clipped another car, compromising his own vehicle, it would end badly all around. Better to make a clean getaway and rip out Daniel Davis's throat later.

Lisa watched through her door window as they passed her former fiancé and his bodyguard, who were still rolling on the ground where they had landed and then she turned in her seat so that she could look back at them through the rear window. Jake stumbled hastily to his feet and, taking a wide stance, he raised his arms. Lisa could see that he held something in his hands and squinted, trying to make it out more clearly.

"Jackson!" she screamed, ducking her head just as the bullet smashed into the back windshield with a deafening noise.

Jackson didn't even bat an eyelash. He guided the car up the ramp and out of the garage, glancing maybe twice into the rearview mirror. Lisa peeked back up over her seat at the rear window. The bullet had sent a variety of cracks up through the glass, all stemming from one perfectly round white hole at their center. Lisa blew out a breath and slumped forward, leaning her upper body and forehead against the back of her leather seat as the hotel drew farther and farther behind them.

"Windshields are a little tougher than they are in the movies," Jackson said, giving her a look from the corner of his eye, only the slightest hint of amusement, "They don't shatter with one bullet."

Lisa spun forward in her seat and looked over at him, lazily leaning her head back against the headrest. "Damn movies." She said.

"Don't get too relaxed, though, Leese." He said, his eyes darting back and forth between the road and the rearview mirror a few times.

"What?" Lisa asked, sitting upright and glancing behind them once more, "You think they're going to follow us?"

"I have no doubt."

As he drove, Jackson tried to use his time to clear his mind and think about the situation. He needed to examine all of the aspects of this; needed to use logic and deduce every possible action that Daniel could take. It was the way he ran his life, like a chess match. He needed to be thinking twenty steps ahead of his opponent. This was where strategy played a key element in the outcome. He needed to be proactive. Assess, evaluate, and formulate a plan.

"Okay," Lisa said, nodding, trying to wrap her own head around the scenario, "so, where're we going?"

**Author's Note: **Well, that's all for now. I know that not a lot happened in this chapter, but I kind of felt that they needed a breather, no matter how short. Plus, I really wanted to focus on how they both react to what's going on around them and how they're trying to learn to cope with each other. Anyways, don't forget to review!

**Personal Note: **By the way, if anyone reading this has access to a copy of Cillian's movie _Sunburn_, please contact me! Pretty please!


	11. Chapter Ten: Shanty in the Woods

**Author's Note: **Thanks to everyone who has reviewed so far! We're closing in on 200 reviews and I'm sure you all know that nothing would make me happier than to hit that lovely number! Help Breezi out! Okay, I'll stop whining now and let you get on to the story.

**Chapter Ten: Shanty in the Woods **

Jackson guided the BMW around the curves of the windy road with an exquisite ease that he had acquired over the years. He paid close attention to what was going on behind the car. There was no sign that they were being followed, but that didn't mean that they weren't. It was black outside. Pitch black. It was very possible that there was a car following no more than ten feet behind them with the headlights turned off. It would be tricky for the driver, but not impossible. He had done it himself a few times. There was nothing he could do about it at the moment except keep a look out for any sign of a tail, and if they were in fact back there, pray that they would make some kind of a mistake that he could use for his own benefit. He risked a sideways look at Lisa.

She was slouched down in her seat, knees pulled up to her chest, arms pinned between her thighs and abdomen. She had her forehead resting against the glass of the window as she gazed out of it, chewing absently on her bottom lip. She wasn't looking at anything in particular, but she was too anxious to close her eyes and actually attempt to sleep. They rode in silence with the heater going full blast, and still Lisa shivered. Her nerves were a ball of knots in her stomach that kept trying to leap up into her throat. She just kept waiting for a car to come flying up behind them and slam into their bumper. It felt like it could happen at any second now. The way the day was turning out, she wouldn't have even been surprised. When she had woken up this morning, she had been a politician's fiancée who had just decided that there was no time like the present to move forward with the future. And now, after having learned that that same politician was currently involved in an assassination ploy, in fact he was bankrolling the whole damned thing, she was running in fear for her life, willingly locked in a car with the very same man who had attempted to kill her two years back. If nothing else, life had one sick sense of humor.

Lisa tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear and straightened her legs out, wincing at the stiffness in her knees. She sat up and turned in her seat to look at Jackson. His profile was to her, illuminated only by the dim light of the dash. Something about the image struck Lisa as haunting. The utter perfection of his profile in the darkness was both beautiful and melancholy all at the same time. With a shaky breath and only a slight hesitation, she reached over and touched his hair, some part inside of her urging her to be a part of this startling portrait.

The unexpected contact caught Jackson by surprise, and on reflex he caught her wrist in his hand and twisted it down to his side, bending it at an odd angle. The smallest noise of pain rolled from Lisa's throat, and Jackson released her. She pulled away from him, clasping her arm to her chest with a whimper.

"Lisa," Jackson said, trying to swallow the regret that had risen like vile inside of him, "I didn't mean to…"

"I know." Lisa cut him off.

"I'm sor…"

"Don't." She said, interrupting him once more. She knew he was sorry and that he hadn't meant to hurt her; all previous evidence to the contrary. But, if he apologized to her for it, it would be like he was saying he was sorry that he was who he was. Besides, apologizing just wasn't what Jackson Rippner did so she didn't want to hear it. So, she turned so that her entire body was facing him, rested her head against the seat, and offered him a sad smile, just to let him know that it was okay. She didn't really know if he needed that at the moment, in fact she doubted very much that he needed it; but she did know that she needed to give it to him. Then, she let her eyes flutter closed and tried to turn her mind off.

Jackson scolded himself in his head. He had more or less just tried to snap Lisa's wrist, but…she couldn't just do that! He wasn't used to having somebody touch him unless either A: he initiated it, or B: they were trying to kill him. He cast a fleeting look over at her. Maybe she needed physical contact right now. He wasn't accustomed to having somebody with him who needed to be comforted…or caring for that matter. He wasn't altogether certain whether he liked the feeling or not. He licked his lips, held his breath, and then placed a tentative hand on the side of her head. Lisa's eyes opened languorously, so big and pretty. Jackson turned his head to her as his fingers gently stroked the silky tendrils of her hair; he released the air from his lungs and felt some of the tension drain out of his body. The corners of her mouth tipped upward again, and she touched his wrist to hold his hand in place, turned her face and placed a quick soft kiss into the palm of his hand.

The gesture stirred something inside of Jackson. So, he thought silently, that's what affection feels like.

He looked back toward the road and flipped back into Jackson mode. He pulled his hand away from Lisa and put it back on the wheel just in time to turn onto a gravel road that was partially obscured by trees and thick bushes. Jackson didn't even tap the brakes and the car skidded slightly to the side, but he recovered in less than a second. The beamer jostled and jolted as the tires bounced through every single pothole in the road, of which there were many. Lisa's fingers dug into the armrest for dear life as she was tossed about in her seat.

After about fifteen minutes of this plentiful pothole escapade, they finally slid to a halt in front of an old run down cabin. Okay, not really a cabin. More like a shack. And as for 'run down'…a more accurate description was probably condemned.

Lisa looked from window to window of the car, taking in her surroundings. They were in the middle of nowhere, encased by trees on all sides, snow covered the ground and treetops, and there was no sign that any intelligent life had ever been here…other than the miniscule shanty.

"Why are we stopping?" Lisa asked as Jackson opened his door.

Jackson pushed the button underneath the dash that popped the trunk before responding, "Because they don't expect us to."

The door shut again as they exited the car. Lisa remained sitting there for another minute before finally pulling her wits together; she pulled on the handle and pushed her shoulder against the door. Snow covered her shoe as soon as her foot hit the ground, icy liquid immediately soaking through and being absorbed by her cotton socks. She ignored the bitter sting of pain and trudged around to the back of the car where Jackson was digging through to trunk, pulling her shirt closed around her chest to fight off the chill of the wind. Jackson straightened from the trunk and earned himself a smile from her when he draped a heavy fleece blanket over her shoulders, pulling its edges together just under her chin.

"Okay, here's what's going to happen," Jackson said, "you're going to go inside. You're not going to come out no matter what you hear. Agreed?"

"What are you gonna do?" Lisa asked.

"Don't worry about that. Just go inside."

"You're gonna leave me alone?" No. He could not leave her alone. He needed to be within her sight at all times so that she knew he was okay. God, what a ridiculous thought! He was Jackson Rippner, for crying out loud! If there was anyone in the world that would be perfectly fine on their own, it was him.

"You're gonna be fine." Jackson said, "I'll be in in a minute."

Lisa was reluctant to leave him, but she did what he told her to do. The inside of the shack/cabin/shanty/whatever you wanted to call it, wasn't really as bad as she had thought it was going to be. It wasn't large, one room really. There was a kitchen adjoined to a living room and one door leading to what she assumed was a bathroom. Though, from what she had seen of the exterior of the place, it was probably a door leading to an outhouse. That was pretty much everything. The living room contained a large well worn leather couch that had a single pillow at one end and a blanket draped over the back, a coffee table that was littered with stacks of books, and an end table with a desk lamp. That was it. No chairs. No television. No stereo. Just a couch, a blanket, and some books.

Lisa walked over to the couch and sank down into it. She heard a creak and nearly jumped out of her skin. A tree branch brushed against the side of the cabin and she started again. She buried her face in her hands and took three deep breaths. Okay, calm down, she thought. She let her eyes glance over the titles of the well worn, heavily creased books on the table. _The Art of War, Utopia, Metamorphosis, _and _The Iliad_ were a few among others. Lisa almost rolled her eyes. It figured.

Outside, crouched and quick, Jackson moved with easy stealth through the woods surrounding the safe house. He just needed to check for any tracks which might indicate whether anyone had been snooping around. They shouldn't be, considering nobody even knew about this place's existence. He had little places like this scattered randomly around the country…around the world for that matter. Each purchased through a different means and under a different alias. Untraceable. Always be prepared. He was the ultimate freaking Boy Scout.

The sun was starting to show its head over the horizon. He needed to get back to the house, or more accurately, back to Lisa. Then he came upon something that caused him to falter a step. Just one.

About a hundred yards away from where he currently stood, roughly half a mile away from the shack, was a dark blue Mercedes; empty. It was an abandoned car on his property. An expensive abandoned car on his property. One that was entirely too close to Lisa for his taste.

Stealth went right out the window as Jackson spun around and took off in a dead sprint towards the house, cursing himself under his breath. The bastards had been following them. He had had a feeling in his gut the entire ride up here, but he had convinced himself that it was paranoia and that they would be fine. He knew better than that! Maybe he was paranoid, but damn it all to hell, being paranoid was the very thing that had kept him alive for this long.

Lisa sat curled up in a ball on the soft couch with her head leaned back, watching the sun come up through the window. She wished Jackson could have had at least a stereo. She hated silence. Not to mention, that she never would have taken him for the hermit type. No, he had always struck her as a materialistic kind of guy, what with the expensive suits and fancy Italian shoes. She took another breath and let her eyes flutter closed. Maybe she could at least sleep for a little while. She doubted it, but it was worth a go.

About five minutes later, Lisa heard the door open and opened her eyes, a slow sweet smile spreading across her mouth. She moved to turn around. "I was beginning to worry."

The smile left her face and she sprang to her feet.

"Miss Lisa." Jack said, his eyes scanning the room.

The blanket slipped from her shoulders and she slowly stepped backwards, putting a little more room, not to mention the sofa, between them. Jake took two more cautious steps into the house.

"I think you should come with me now, Miss Lisa." Jake said.

Lisa sidestepped. "Forgive me if I don't agree."

Then, Jake smiled. Lisa didn't think she had ever seen him smile before. It was not a very pleasant sight. He came at her. Lisa made for the door, but Jake got a hand on her and she stumbled. He came at her again, and she pulled the gun from her waistband and pointed it at him. Her hands were trembling as she pulled the trigger.

A loud click came from the gun, but other than that nothing happened. Lisa looked at it in confusion and pulled the trigger again. Another click. Jake laughed as he ripped it from her hands and threw it out the open window. He then grabbed Lisa by the shoulders and slammed her against the wall three times. More bashing against the wall. Were men always so repetitive? Imagination, boys, come on!

"Helps if you take the safety off, dear." He said, "Now, Miss Lisa, I want you to come wi…" his voice trailed off as his gaze traveled once again over to the window. When the hell had it opened?

Across the room, the very distinct sound of a gun hammer cocking back drew his attention. Jake looked over and found himself staring at the business end of a handgun held by Jackson Rippner. He quickly jerked Lisa away from the wall and held her in front of him like a shield. Jackson knew that he probably should have just shot him instead of cocking the gun, considering the fact that it was a semi-automatic and didn't actually require cocking. But, here's the thing…guns were great from intimidation purposes, but in Jackson's hands…he was just as likely to hit Lisa as he was to hit Jake.

"Hello Rippner." Jake said.

"Hi, Jake."

"You are a pretty one, aren't you?"

Jackson smirked, "It's been said a time or two."

"Word is you're one freaky bastard. A real terror."

"Been said, too."

"You don't look all that scary to me."

"You've never seen me before my morning coffee."

"It's just that, you're kind of small. Almost delicate."

"Wait, was that supposed to be an insult or a come on?"

Jake snarled at him. Here he was, doing his damnedest to be intimidating and the only thing he was getting from Jackson was that smug shit eater's grin. "You wanna know what you can do with that smart mouth, pretty boy?"

"Okay, now I know you're hitting on me."

Lisa could have laughed had it not been for her current position in Jake's hands. Jake's face flushed and the tips of his ears turned bright red as he glared at Jackson.

Jackson quirked one eyebrow and winked at Lisa. Lisa wet her lips as best she could considering that her mouth had gone completely dry. She made eye contact with Jackson, giving him a helpless look just before she went totally slack in Jake's arms. Jake, who was unprepared for sudden deadweight, had two options. He could either let her go, or go down with her. He chose the former, letting Lisa slip through his hands to the floor. Jackson rushed forward until Lisa was at his feet; Jake shuffled backwards in a countermove, groping for his own gun. Jackson took a long legged step over Lisa, positioning himself protectively in front of her and giving her the chance to get to her feet. Once she was standing up, she remained behind him, one hand twisted into the fabric at the back of his jacket.

"How you doin', Leese?" Jackson asked.

"Oh, I'm great." She replied dryly.

"Outstanding." Jackson said as he sidestepped. Lisa moved in perfect synchronization as he knew she would and Jake countered his steps as he had known he would; almost as though the three of them were locked in a well choreographed dance. While keeping Jake occupied with their little Mexican standoff, he was also maneuvering Lisa closer to the door so she could run. Once he was confident that he had Jake trapped on the other side of the room, he instructed. "Lisa, get out of here."

"No, Miss Lisa, stay right where you are." Jake commanded.

Lisa would rather have listened to Jake at the moment, really. She was more apt to stay with Jackson than to run off on her own. But at the same time she knew that Jackson wouldn't be able to take care of business if he was worried about taking care of her. So, even though he couldn't feel it, she squeezed the material of his jacket between her fingers for reassurance, for herself not for him, and then lunged through the door. Once Lisa was outside, the smile broadened on Jackson's face.

Lisa hurled herself through the snow toward Jackson's car, grabbing the door handle and tugging. It didn't even budge. She tried two more times. Nothing. It was locked. Then, she spotted the keys dangling from the ignition and slapped her palm against the window, cursing under her breath. What the hell was she supposed to do now? She spun around with every intention of running off into the forest, but fell back against the car in mid-step.

"Hello, Angel." Daniel said, standing no more than three feet away.

POP!

Lisa and Daniel both turned their heads in the direction that the gunshot had come from. Lisa stopped breathing. Her stomach dropped out of her and her heart jumped up into her throat. She stared at the open door of the cabin, anticipation and adrenaline both rushing through her veins like a forest fire in a dry wind. The silhouette of a man appeared in the lit doorway and Lisa's throat completely constricted. The figure was far too bulky to be Jackson. It was Jake.

Daniel turned back to Lisa with a sickening smile twisted on the features that she had once thought to be so handsome. Now what? The question blazed through her turbulent thoughts. What was Daniel going to do with her? Would he try to convince her that it was all for the best? Would he drag her back to the hotel and try to explain why he had done what he had done? The leering smile on his face and morbid twinkle of delight in his eyes told her no. He was going to kill her. He was going to kill her and frame the whole thing on Jackson. Then, he would be the bereaved politician who had lost his beautiful young fiancée at the hands of a psycho killer and oh just think about all those sympathy votes.

A shudder ran through her that went all the way down to her bones; one that had nothing to do with the cold. Her attention once again drifted over Daniel's shoulder to where Jake still stood in the doorway. He took a step, stumbled, and then fell gracelessly into the snow. Lisa became physically aware of the moment that her lungs expanded; because it was the same moment that Jackson's smaller lanky form came barreling out of the cabin toward her and Daniel. She slid to the side out of the way, slamming her hip painfully into the side mirror, just as Jackson nailed Daniel in the back right between the shoulder blades and knocked him face first into the side of the car. Daniel bounced off the car and hit the ground. Jackson stepped up over him and aimed the barrel of the gun down at his head. Lisa looked away; unable to bring herself to watch Daniel's head explode.

Daniel was up to his forearms in snow, but his hand managed to close around an old, very thin piece of firewood. With the first swing, he knocked the gun out of Jackson's hand. Jackson cried out and drew Lisa's gaze back just in time to witness the second blow take his legs out from under him. Jackson's back hit the car before he hit the ground, which stunned him long enough that Daniel started to make for the gun. Jackson snapped himself out of it and leapt onto Daniel's back. Daniel reached behind him and grabbed Jackson by the back of the hair and jerked him to the side. Jackson managed to catch hold of Daniel's neck though and two men ended up rolling through the snow, even further from the gun.

Lisa felt like she must have been just standing there staring at them fighting for forever before bringing herself back into reality and going for the gun. She dropped to her knees in the area that she had seen it land and began digging through the snow. But, her fingers had gone numb and stiff from the cold and were more or less useless as they fumbled over the frozen ground, rapidly losing what was left of their sense of touch. Yes! Her mind bellowed as her aching hand closed around the cold metal. But as soon as she touched it, she was knocked onto the flat of her back with a heavy weight on top of her. Jake.

Jackson had managed to maneuver his way on top of Daniel, straddling the man's waist with his legs while holding his head to the ground with one hand to his chin. His free hand went to his back and pulled out his ever trusty K-bar. However, Daniel caught his wrist before he managed to stab him, while with his other hand he was trying to pry Jackson's hand away from his face. It had basically become no more than a challenge of who could outdo the other with pure brute strength. Jackson risked a glance upward. Bad move. He spotted Lisa struggling against Jake and looked up again, this time with more attention.

"Lisa!" he called.

Daniel, of course, used the distraction to punch Jackson in the ribs. The blow knocked him enough off balance that Daniel was able to shove him off of himself, rolling onto the top position as he did so.

Lisa used both of her hands to push up on Jake's face and kicked her legs beneath him as he was trying to get a hold on her arms while using nothing more than the enormous weight of his body to keep her on the ground. Fighting against him felt familiar. Okay, he was a little heavier, but her mind floated back to when Jackson had had her pinned beneath the car in the garage. She stopped kicking her legs, took as deep a breath as she could with the great behemoth lying on top of her, and focused all of her strength into the punch that she delivered solidly into his jugular.

Jackson swung his knife hand up toward Daniel's throat, but Daniel caught his arm and, I kid you not, bit him on the wrist. Jackson howled and dropped the knife. That asshole had really just _bitten_ him! But as one hand released the weapon, the other hand came up and cold cocked Daniel in the side of the head. Daniel fell off of Jackson, who sprang to his knees and then rose to his feet. Daniel also climbed to his feet. The two men circled each other like lions for a moment, both soaked through and freezing, and neither of them caring. Then, Daniel charged Jackson, catching him at the waist with his shoulder football style and they both somersaulted once again to the ground.

Jake stopped groping for Lisa's arms, bracing himself on the ground with one hand and clutching at his neck with the other. A strangled gurgling sound retched from his throat as Lisa wiggled out from underneath him. She dragged herself through the snow on all fours, once again searching for the gun that she had lost. She glanced over her shoulder at the same time her hand found the grip of the gun, just as Jake had begun scrambling toward her on his hands and knees. He raised himself to his knees and without thinking about exactly what it was that she was doing, Lisa pointed to gun at him and pulled the trigger three times.

The three loud gunshots drew the attention of both Jackson and Daniel, who looked over just in time to watch Jake touch a hand to the bullet holes in his chest before his body slumped lifelessly into the now crimson snow. Daniel was on top of Jackson, and Jackson took the moment to shove him away. But, neither man resumed fighting. They were both staring at Lisa, who appeared to be in shock.

Lisa sat there, wide eyed, mouth agape, and entire body trembling. Her hand still aiming the gun at the space that Jake had occupied a mere moment ago. She had just killed a man. Intentionally. She had never counted the man outside of her father's house, because she had managed to convince herself that she hadn't really meant to kill him, therefore it wasn't murder. But, now she had actually just shot and killed another human being. She wanted to cry, but a voice inside of her head told her that she was not quite done fighting just yet. Fight or flight instincts kicked back in and Lisa had always been a fighter. She pushed herself to her feet, pulled herself together, and turned. She pointed the gun at Daniel, who, with a grunt of effort, pushed himself to his feet. Jackson followed suit, standing up while struggling to return his erratic breathing to a normal pace.

Daniel stood doubled over, bracing his hands on his knees and panting heavily like a dog. He let out a little humorless chuckle and then he spoke. "You know, to tell you the truth, Rippner, I'm a little disappointed." He said, "Everyone said that you were the man to call; the best. They told me that you were expensive, but worth every penny. Always finishes the job. Well, except for that once. But, I understand. I mean, when you come across a perfect little strawberry like Lisa, hell, you have to jump at that chance. Any man would."

Strawberry? Lisa thought, Peaches? Cupcake? What exactly was it with men and calling women food? Do they really think that we like it when they do that? Do they think that we find it cute? We don't!

"But, Lisa, honey, I'm going to be honest with you, now." Daniel went on, "At first, yes, this was all about damage control. But, then, it turned into concern for your safety and well being. I saw what he did to that girl that he was working with and I don't want that to happen to you."

"What?" Jackson exclaimed.

Lisa's mouth all of the sudden went even drier than it had already been and her knees felt like they were going to fail her. Somehow, all at one time, the world had dropped completely out from under her feet. The horrific image of Neela's barely recognizable body blared in front of her eyes and she tried desperately to blink it away again. Her eyes; cold and lifeless, her once pretty face forever frozen in a look that only comes from severe fear and torment. So much blood. She had thought that she had it figured out; thought that she had known.

"Lisa…" Jackson started, taking a step toward her.

She jerked the gun in his direction. "Stop!" she commanded.

Jackson obeyed, his hands spread out wide to his sides in surrender. She stood there, melted snow dripping from her hair and face, large drops rolling off of her quivering chin. Her eyes flittering back and forth between the two men as her mind tried to choose between them. Eventually, she found herself gazing into space, looking at neither of them, but she still had the gun fixed so that it could swing in either direction in less than a second.

"Lisa, look at me." Jackson said, his voice gentle yet firm. It was an order, not a question.

No, no, no, Lisa thought. This was not happening. This could not be happening.

"He's been planning this all along, honey." Daniel said.

"Lisa, you know that's not true." Jackson said, maintaining the soft, melodic tone of voice. Calm. Commanding. In control.

"He wants revenge, angel!" Daniel countered. His voice was more urgent than Jackson's; more anxious. "He's been after you for the past two years!"

"Please, look at me, Leese." It wasn't a command anymore. It was more like he was pleading with her. Slowly, Lisa raised her gaze to meet his. "You know I didn't do it, Leese."

"What in the hell would make her think that?" Daniel cried, drawing Lisa's eyes back to himself, "Lisa, you've seen how ruthless he is! How brutal!"

It was true. She had witnesses first hand how Jackson could kill without even the slightest bit of emotion; not even a tinge of remorse. Hell, once upon a time, she had even been on the receiving end of that wrath. Her mind brought up flashes of that day, unbidden to her memory. The ease with which he had wielded that knife; the mayhem she had seen rampant in his face. She had no doubt of what would have happened to her had he gotten his hands on her back then. She and poor Neela would have had a lot more in common. Slowly, she returned her eyes once more to Jackson. She had seen those eyes, which were at the moment looking at her with a silent beseeching, go from dancing with amusement to fiery hatred to cold and dead and merciless. He was a chameleon who could manipulate you into believing whatever it was that he wanted you to believe. He would say or do whatever it took to get the outcome that he wanted.

Lisa looked at Jackson now over the barrel of the gun, made a decision, took a breath, and _squeezed _the trigger.

**Author's Note: **Hey, kids! Well, as all the crazies out there say, the end is near! So, don't forget to let me know what you think!


	12. Chapter Eleven: Out of the Thick

**Author's Note: **Thanks to all the beautiful people who have reviewed so far! I will continue to fawn on you and tell you how lovely, wonderful, and magnificent you are…as long as you continue to review! I know, I know, ultimatums and bribery, what has the world come to? Anyways, here's the next to last chapter of my little story so I'll stop moaning and let you read…

**Chapter Eleven: Out of the Thick**

Lisa stared at Jackson's motionless body, his pretty blue eyes still staring back at hers. Without a word, on a shaky breath, she dropped the gun down to her side. It still had a faint steam pouring out from the barrel. There was a part of her that knew she had made the right choice, but part of her questioned her very sanity. But, every fiber of her being was telling her that after this, things would never be the same again.

On the other side of them, Daniel screamed and clutched at the wound in his leg where Lisa had just shot him. Blood oozed from his thigh and pooled in the snow on the ground where he had dropped. He was a prick, but Lisa couldn't bring herself to kill another person. One was plenty enough for her to have on her conscience.

Jackson finally moved, his lips curling into a smirk as he shoved his hands into his snow soaked pants pockets and took four long strides to close the distance between himself and Lisa.

"I thought you were gonna kill me." He said.

Lisa looked at him, "For a second there, so did I."

"I didn't kill, Neela."

"I know."

"How?"

"Because you said so."

"What if I lied?"

"You don't."

Jackson's grin widened a little.

"Lisa!" Daniel's scream interrupted their moment and drew their attention, "You bitch!"

"Besides," Lisa said on a frustrated breath, "Daniel started talking about how you've been after me for the past two years."

"So?" Jackson said, his brow furrowing, "That could have easily been true. I'm not above that sort of thing, you know."

"Yeah," Lisa said, taking a couple of steps towards Daniel, "but I never told him about you. And my name was never released to the papers because the FBI was afraid that someone might come after me."

"Someone meaning me?" he asked.

"Someone." Lisa repeated.

Jackson came to stand at her side, looking down at where Daniel was squirming on the ground, but when he spoke it was to Lisa. "You were a bargaining chip." He stated.

Daniel looked up at them, his lips curling back over his teeth in an unpleasant sneer. His face was glowing, as though he were incredibly proud of what he were about to disclose. "That's right," he snickered, "The mighty Jackson Rippner's only weakness! I thought what better way to control you than to have the one thing that everybody knew you wanted."

Jackson took the gun out of Lisa's hand. "She's not a thing, asshole."

"What's the matter, Rippner?" Daniel laughed, "Pissed off that I got there first?"

Lisa cringed and touched a hand to her throat, terrified that she might actually vomit. She had let that slime into her life, into her house. She had let him touch her. The thought sent a violent revolted chill down her spine and she had to fight off the memories of every night that she had spent with him, because with every memory came a phantom touch that just repulsed her even further. She took a few steps back, needing to put some distance between herself and that…that…between herself and Daniel.

Jackson stared down at Daniel for a moment, a thoughtful expression on his face. Daniel stared up at him, laughing, waiting for Jackson's response. He didn't have to wait long. Jackson leaned over him, smiled in an almost feral manner, and then fired five shots into his face. He started to turn away, then turned back and fired a sixth time, just for good measure. He spun to face Lisa, but she had turned away and buried her face in her hands the second he had fired the first round.

He tossed the gun aside and walked over to her, taking her by the shoulders and spinning her around to face him. He gently pulled her hands away from her face and used his index finger to tip her chin up, forcing her to look at him. As the adrenaline left her body, she started to feel the bite of the cold. Her teeth chattered and her body quaked no matter how she fought against it; her fingers were red and sore and difficult to move; every limb began to ache with fatigue and the onset of exhaustion. She looked up at Jackson with red puffy eyes, blue lips, and a red, runny nose which she could no longer feel. Her damp hair had bits of snow and ice clinging to the strands, which in turn were beginning to freeze to her skin. Jackson brushed a few locks back away from her pale face and pulled her against him, rubbing his own frozen hands over her arms in a vain attempt to warm her up, even a little. Lisa wrapped her arms around his waist and rested her cheek against his chest. She probably would have cried, but her body didn't seem to have enough energy. She just took comfort in having Jackson's arms around her.

"So," she said, the slightest hint of hesitation in her voice, as though she weren't quite ready to ask this question, "what do we do now?"

Jackson smiled just a little and kissed her on the top of the head. "What we have to." He replied.

Lisa looked up at him, "The way you say that makes me think that I'm not gonna like this."

Jackson rested his forehead against hers and for a moment, they just stood there, staring into each other's eyes. Lisa saw something in his eyes that she had never seen before. Not even once. There was warmth and tenderness, but, there was also what appeared to be…vulnerability. That was a word that she had never imagined she would associate with anything having to do with Jackson Rippner…except maybe his next victim. He cupped both sides of her face in his hands and kissed her once on the mouth, before draping his arm over her shoulders and leading her back into the cabin.

"First thing we need to do is get you out of these clothes before you die of hyperthermia." He said with a shark's smile.

"Yeah, okay." Lisa laughed.

"See, you think I'm joking."

7:30 a.m. at the Hilton…

Doug Claustine tied the knot of his tie while watching his reflection in the mirror. Ellen was in the bathroom, brushing her teeth with her electric toothbrush. The phone shrilled at them, causing them both a start. Ellen came out of the bathroom, wiping her mouth on a towel.

"Who in the world is calling us this early?" she asked aloud, though she didn't expect her husband to answer her. She slung the towel over her shoulder and picked up the telephone receiver. "Hello?...Who is this?...What?...What are you…Where…" she felt her breath catch in the back of her throat, "Oh, my God! Who is this?...Who are you?...Answer me!"

His wife's upset tone of voice caused Claustine to abandon his tie only halfway tied and go over to her side just as she slammed the phone back down onto its cradle. She pushed both hands back through her ashen hair, then picked the phone back up and hit the button for the front desk.

"What's going on, Ellen?" Claustine asked his wife.

Ellen held up her finger in a gesture for him to hold on. A young man named Jason answered at the concierge desk. "Yes," Ellen said, "Jason, I need to be connected to the police department, right now."

Between half an hour and forty-five minutes later, sirens blazing, there were seven police cruisers, three unmarked cars, two federal marshals, two ambulances, and one fire truck pulling down the long gravel drive of a little condemned cabin that no one had even known existed. The cabin itself was ablaze, pretty much nothing but a frame by the time anyone had gotten there. The firemen immediately went to work to put out the flames, but it was really of no use by that point. The police and feds swarmed the area, taping off a perimeter and traipsing the area for evidence. There was an abandoned dark blue Mercedes, a rental. They had the agency it came from searching the database for the customer's name. Then a black BMW registered to one Jonathan Breech. The property itself was deeded to a Paul Montague. They found one body that had been shot three times in the chest at point blank range and one time in the stomach from a distance. The license found on the body identified him as one Jacob Randold, ex-army. Also in his wallet was a permit to carry a concealed weapon. The next body they found would have to be examined by the Medical Examiner before they knew too much about the guy. The ID belonged to a Daniel Davis, but the guy's face was completely gone, so they would have to wait for further testing before they could be sure.

Agent Bryce Wallace trudged through the snow to join Detective Louis Gramble, who was currently leaned against the beamer waiting for the forensics guy to finish dusting it for prints so he could inventory it. He took a long drag off of his cigarette, which was already down to practically the butt. Wallace leaned against the car beside him. They were an odd pair even just to look at. Wallace was tall and broad shouldered with close cropped sandy blond hair and big brown eyes. He looked like he belonged on the cover of _GQ Magazine_, not freezing his ass off in the middle of the freaking Colorado wilderness. Gramble on the other hand, looked like he was on a one way train to a major coronary. He was short and squat with a big round squishy belly and long shaggy brown hair in desperate need of a cut.

The two men had worked together several times and had a mutual respect for one another, which was rare among feds and locals.

"So," Wallace began, "you think these are related to the vics at the hotel?"

Gramble took another drag on his smoke. "I don't even know if the vics at the hotel are related to each other." He said on a cloud of smoke.

"The two on the construction floor are." Wallace said with conviction.

Gramble nodded, "But what about the woman?"

Wallace closed his eyes and pressed his fingertips against the lids, trying to banish the image from his mind. "I'm not even sure if I _want _to know about that one."

"I know what you mean." Gramble agreed.

In the back of his mind, Wallace thought he heard something shuffling behind them. He looked over his shoulder. Nothing there. He rubbed his temples. This case was already getting to him and they hadn't even gotten started yet.

"What's wrong?" Gramble asked, dropping his cigarette butt into the snow and crushing it under his boot.

"Nothing," Wallace said, "Just thought I heard something."  
Gramble snorted and shook his head. "A case like this can do that to you." He said, then a very quiet noise caught his attention, "Shit, now I'm hearing it too."

Both men straightened up off of the car at the same time, each focusing all of their energy into listening for the noise again. There it was again! The car shook a little; just the tiniest bit of movement. They hadn't noticed it because their combined weight on the car had kept it from happening.

"Charlier," Gramble said, "pop the trunk!"

The officer dusting the interior of the car paused long enough to push the button under the dash. There was a soft noise as the trunk unlocked. Gramble and Wallace both drew their guns and aimed them at the still closed lid of the trunk. Wallace used the toe of his boot to spring the lid open all the way. Both men lunged forward, aiming into the compact space.

"Holy shit." Gramble murmured, lowering his gun.

Wallace quickly tucked his gun back into the holster and reached into the trunk to help the young woman out. Her hands were bound behind her back with duct tape; her ankles were also taped together, as well as her mouth. She squinted her eyes against the bright sun. She was wrapped in a heavy fleece blanket, under which she wore nothing more than her underwear. She sat on the bumper of the trunk while they untied her ankles, hands, and mouth. Then Wallace carried her to an ambulance since her feet were bare. He stood with her while the paramedic checked her over.

"What's your name, ma'am?" he asked.

"Lisa Reisert."

"I don't suppose you can tell me what happened here, can you?" he asked.

Lisa looked up at him and Wallace couldn't help but think to himself how lovely her sad green eyes were. She looked so lost and fragile, his first instinct as a man was to protect her, hold her to his chest and whisper in her ear about how everything was going to be okay. He rubbed one big hand over his face and shoved the thought away from his mind. Damn it, he was already bias towards her and the only thing she had said was her name. His eyes lingered on the gold band that he wore on his left hand, making him wince and mentally call himself an extensive list of names, not the least of which was scumbag.

Lisa wet her lips and wiped her nose on the edge of her blanket before lightly shaking her head. "I don't…I'm not really sure."

The paramedic, a big black man with a shaved head, deep voice, and kind eyes named Mac, looked at Wallace, "She needs some time to rest, man. We gotta get her to the hospital where she can get warm."

"Miss Reisert," he said, getting Lisa to look at him again, "Mac here is going to take you to the hospital and get you taken care of, okay? I'm gonna send a uniform with you and then I am gonna come and see you a little bit later. Understand?"

Lisa nodded and pulled the blanket a little tighter around her shoulders.

When they got to the hospital, Mac had turned her over to Dr. Martin. Dr. Martin had insisted on a rape kit, even though Lisa persisted that she hadn't been raped. She didn't want to relive that experience again, but again, since when had what she wanted had any effect whatsoever on what happened to her? So, she went through the humiliation and violation of a rape kit for the second time in her life.

"Well," Dr. Martin said, looking over her charts, "no signs of vaginal trauma. No fluids. Nothing to suggest that you were raped."

"I told you that, already!" Lisa had shouted as she tried to choke back her sobs. Sometimes she wondered it medical examiners knew just how degrading their rape tests really were. And if they did, she wondered how they could justify putting someone who had already been traumatized enough through something like that.

It was two weeks before Lisa was allowed to return to Miami. Ellen Claustine had come to visit her all three days that she had been in the hospital in Colorado, informing her about the frightening phone call that she had received and that she was the one who had sent the police out to the cabin. The police told her that they had uncovered a plot that Daniel had to have Doug Claustine assassinated and Lisa had been positively _shocked _to learn that her fiancé could be capable of such a thing. The fingerprints lifted from the car that she had been found in had brought about a thousand red flags with the FBI, Interpol, Scotland Yard, basically, name the agency, they were looking for the owner of those prints. Even the Secret Service had a look out for this guy, they had told her. The name that the car had been registered to belonged to a man that had been dead since 1973. Same with the name that the deed to property was under, only he died in 1954. They had checked the phone records of the hotel to see who had called Ellen Claustine, but all that had lead to was yet another dead end. The weapon that had been used to kill the victims was never found at either the cabin or the hotel. Best they could figure, this guy, the _professional_ as they had referred to him, had killed two of David's private security guards in the hotel, probably while they were trying to prevent him from kidnapping her, and then arranged a rendezvous with David at the cabin. They had probably argued over payment and the _professional_ had decided to simply kill them and be done with it.

Another interesting thing about this _professional_, was that even though pretty much every investigative agency on the planet had copies of his prints, none of them had even the vaguest idea as to what he looked like. Did she by any chance get a look at him? No, she hadn't seen him. Hadn't even caught a glimpse. She was very sorry that she couldn't be of any more help.

What about the woman that was killed at the hotel? She had heard Ellen talking about her and wondered what had happened.

The unidentified Jane Doe had been found in the elevator and they had been unable to make any connection between her and Lisa's case, so they weren't at liberty to discuss the details with her.

And with that, she was on a plane and back home before she knew it. Her boss had insisted that she take some time to get over her horrible loss and offered his condolences. She went and stayed at her father's house for a week; taking comfort in sleeping in her old bed. Cynthia had been shocked about Daniel and devastated for Lisa. Life just wasn't fair. Lisa agreed.

I felt good when she finally left her dad's house and went back to her own apartment. It felt even better when she boxed up all of Daniel's designer suits and shoes and donated them to Goodwill. All the photographs that she had of him and of him and her together, she joyously put in the sink and then proceeded to set on fire. It was very therapeutic. Cathartic. Invigorating. Pick your fifty cent SAT word as long as it was a synonym for good!

That same night, she slipped on her favorite cotton pajamas, turned the television on to _Mr. Smith Goes to Washington_, and made herself some scrambled eggs. She hadn't done that in the longest time. It felt like coming home.

Daniel's attempt at assassinating Claustine made headlines for an entire month, then they were on to talking about a stock broker who had embezzled over ten million dollars from his firm and which celebrity was cheating on which and so on and so on and then on to the next big thing. If it hadn't been so close to home, Lisa would have found it all mildly amusing. Maybe what was really distressing her though, was that it had been nearly two months, and she hadn't heard from Jackson. Nothing. Not a phone call, not a letter, not a postcard…hell, not even a telegram with the word 'boo'. She would have been happy with a smoke signal. But no, nothing, nada.

Lisa's alarm went off at 6:30 a.m. She rolled out of bed and stretched her arms and legs as she walked into the bathroom to hop into the shower. It was her first official day back to work and she was actually looking forward to it. Maybe she would actually have a day where she didn't spend every single minute thinking about where Jackson was, or what he was doing, or why he hadn't called. It would be nice to fall back into her old familiar workaholic routine.

Her higher ups were more than ecstatic to see her back, bright and, as they put it, better than ever. Apparently, a nice emotional trauma every now and then was great for her career. Sure enough, it wasn't long before she was back to spending all hours of her days and nights at work, burning the proverbial midnight oil, and outshining pretty much everyone around her. Hell, at this rate, they would eventually just have to give her the damn hotel.

"God, Leese," Cynthia said as Lisa gazed over some files while the two of them sat at dinner, "do you ever stop working?"

Lisa chuckled, "What for? My fantastic social life?"

Cynthia took another bite of her salad and shrugged. "You're gonna have to get back out there eventually."

"No." Lisa said simply, sipping from her seabreeze and scribbling a note in the margins of her paper.

"Yes, you are." Cynthia countered.

Lisa set down her pen and fixed her friend with a pointed stare, "Cynthia, just under three months ago I found out that the only guy I've dated in the past four years turned out to be a lying sleazebag who tried to hire someone to murder a really good guy. I think I'll lay off on the whole dating scene for a while if it's all the same to you."

Cynthia pressed her lips together in a tight line and nodded her head. She really couldn't put up a substantial argument against that.

On the drive home, Lisa thought she saw Jackson drive past in a black Lexus, but it turned out to be some teenybopper talking on a cell phone while out cruising in daddy's car. Lisa swallowed the disappointment and kept driving. It wasn't like seeing him in places where he really wasn't, was all that uncommon or anything. She was pretty much used to it. Earlier, when she and Cynthia had first walked into the restaurant, she had thought that she had seen him sitting at the bar with a scotch neat. Nope. Yesterday, she thought that she saw him standing in line at Starbucks. Not him. It had become kind of like a game. Where would she see him next? The thought made her chuckle as she turned her key in the bolt lock and let herself into the apartment.

She swung the door open and stopped in her tracks. She just stood there for a minute staring. Jackson was lying back on her couch, his feet propped up on the arm, reading a novel. He looked over at her and smirked. Lisa took a breath, squeezed her eyelids together as tightly as she could, and then reopened them.

He was gone.

"Well, that answers that question." She remarked dryly to herself.

She let the air out of her lungs and kicked the door shut with a bitter laugh, throwing her keys down on the hallway table. She stepped out of her shoes and flipped the deadbolt back into place. What she needed right now more than anything was a long hot bath…with bubbles. She grabbed a bottle of red wine from the fridge, went to open the cabinet to get a glass, but opted instead to just take the whole damn bottle. Padding to the bedroom barefoot, she peeled off her suit jacket and prepared to drown herself in jasmine scented bath oils, Dido, and excessive levels of alcohol. What else did a girl need to completely forget the world?

**Author's Note: **Well, that's almost it! Be sure to tell me how you feel about this one…I know it's got a little different tone than the rest of the story, but I suppose I felt that it was mainly an expository chapter. Anyways, don't forget to review!

**Personal Note: **Okay, shameless little bout of self promotion here, but…I pretty much _love _all of you that have read my story and I wanted to let you know that I was thinking about trying to break into a new category and writing a story for television's _Supernatural_, so I hope that some of you will check it out. Thanks!


	13. Epilogue

**Author's Note: **Once again, you are all fantastic, outstanding, brilliant, and perfect. Thank you so much for reviewing! Well, here's the end. Don't keep me in suspense with what you think for too long, now! Well, what are you waiting for? Get to reading!

**Epilogue:**

Drumming her fingers mindlessly on the table, shifting positions in her seat for what had to be the millionth time; Lisa stifled the urge to yawn into her hand. She felt like this was all just one big waste of an evening, which sucked because she looked good tonight. No, she looked damn good. She looked _fantastic_ tonight. She wore a great little light blue silk dress with a low cut front that tied behind her neck, the material of it just covering the scar on her chest, with matching stilettos and she had her hair down. Damn it, she had even shaved her legs! And the only thing she could seem to think about was making a break for the nearest exit. She could do it. She had run farther in high heels.

Her date sat across from her, reading over the wine list. Then he looked up with a smile at the waiter that was half hidden beneath his thick mustache.

"Yes, we'll have the house chardonnay." He said.

"Oh," Lisa interjected, "I don't like white wine."

He chuckled, "No, trust me. You'll love their chardonnay. It's superb."

"I'm sure it is, but I don't really care for white…"

"Nonsense." He said, shaking her off, "The chardonnay."

One, two, Lisa thought, taking a deep breath through her nostrils, three four…

"I have to tell you, Lisa, I am so pleased to finally meet you. Cynthia talks about you all the time." Her date said.

Lisa forced a smile. It was the same one that she used to offer to her guests at the hotel when they complained. "Does she?"

"Oh, yes." He went on.

The waiter reappeared and poured their wine. How did I end up here? Lisa asked herself, even though she knew the answer. After another three months of no dates, going to sleep in a big empty bed, and no word from a certain blue eyed beauty of a man, she had finally given into her loneliness and agreed to let her ever eager friend set her up on a blind date. Cynthia had been more than ecstatic and had spent the next week and a half trying to figure out the perfect match for her.

The result was Andy Baxter, a thirty-six year old advertising agent who drove a Porsche and had an expense account. He was attractive enough. Six foot even with broad shoulders and big charcoal colored eyes that were just made for long gazes in front of a warm fireplace; if you were into that sort of thing. He had light brown hair with a matching beard and mustache which he kept very neatly trimmed. He wore a nice dark gray suit, probably Hugo Boss, with a dark blue silk tie. And, he was a very nice man. Polite. One would even go so far as to call him a perfect gentleman. The problem was…he was just a touch on the dull side.

On the drive to dinner, once he had finished showing off the wonder that was his Porsche, he had regaled Lisa with stories of his days playing college football and raging parties with his fraternity brothers. She had seriously considered the ramifications of hurling herself from a moving vehicle. It hadn't seemed worth it at the time, but now she was reassessing that assumption. So she would have gotten a few scratches and bruises; it wouldn't be the first time; and maybe a dislocated shoulder. She could wear a sling!

The waiter finished pouring their wine, "Are you ready to order?"

"I believe so. Lisa, do you know what you would like?" Andy said, _politely_ letting her order first.

:Um, yes." Lisa said, "I'll have the filet. Medium. And a baked potato, butter on the side."

The waiter nodded and scribbled down her order, then looked expectantly at Andy.

"I would like the lamb. Rare. Extra mint. Thank you." He said, offering his menu.

The waiter made himself another note, then took both of their menus and disappeared, leaving her once again alone with her…date. He held up his wine glass to her for a cheers. She smiled and clinked the rim of his glass with her own and they both took a drink.

Andy looked as though he had gone to heaven as the bitter liquid rolled down his throat. Lisa tried her hardest not to gag or spit the wine back into the glass; or gag and then spit the wine back into her glass. She really, really, hated white wine. She set her glass back down on the table and forced the mouthful of fluid down her throat. At least it wasn't on her tongue anymore.

"Isn't that marvelous?" Andy commented.

"Outstanding."

"I told you that you would like it."

"You certainly did."

"So," he said, leaning toward her, "tell me about you."

Lisa's cheeks hurt from how hard it was not to frown at his words. Tell him about her? Tell him what? She wasn't exactly what people referred to as an 'open book'. For the past four years, she's been extremely guarded, the walls getting taller and thicker in steady increments. By this point, she liked to consider herself damn near impenetrable; the Fort Knox of emotional lockdown. But she couldn't say that to Andy. This was the first date. That was not first date information. First date information was her favorite movie; not the weight of her emotional baggage with a matching carryon.

"What would you like to know?" Lisa said, tacking on a silent 'within reason' in her head.

"Well, for starters," Andy looked thoughtful, "is your family here in Miami?"

Ooh, touchy one. Information of and about her family could be used against her at a later date. "Some." She replied. It was a good answer. She had answered his question, but had remained vague at the same time. She was good at being vague. She had learned from the best; taken notes even.

"Okay, what made you want to be a hotel manager?" Andy asked.

That one was so easy, it was scary. "I like to be in control."

"Oh, my." Andy chuckled, "Should I be worried?"

Lisa could practically see the lewd thoughts crawling like cockroaches through his brain as he spoke to her. She probably should have worded her answer a little bit differently. She shifted once again in her seat but tried to pretend that she wasn't uncomfortable.

"Well," he continued, "what about now? How do you like your job since you got promoted?"

Lisa shrugged, "It's great, I guess. Um, I have to travel a lot…"

"Oh, I love to travel." Andy interrupted, "Last month, me and an associate of mine had a meeting over in Vegas. Wow, now that is a town. Let me tell you. We went down to the blackjack tables…"

Lisa leaned forward, putting her elbows on the table and resting her chin on her clasped hands and pretended to listen to the story about his wild night in sin city. She didn't really mind being interrupted. It was less information about herself that she had to reveal. She batted her eyes, plastering her best intrigued look on her face, and nodded at what seemed like the appropriate intervals.

"I mean, can you believe that!" Andy said, slapping his hand on the table and laughing. He had an attractive laugh, Lisa had to admit. It seemed to roll up from his throat and out into the air. It was a warm sound. Like brandy.

He tipped up his wine glass, emptying its contents into his mouth and then pouring himself another. "Wow, Lisa, you really do look amazing." He said.

Lisa blushed and averted her eyes. She couldn't look at him while he was looking at her like that; it felt too weird. He was openly admiring her physical appearance and to her, it felt like he was studying her; like he was two seconds from whipping out a microscope to put her under. "Thank you." She managed to say; even managing to make it sound halfway convincing.

"Well," he downed the second glass of wine in one swallow and set down the empty glass, "if you'll excuse me, Lisa, I need to go to the restroom."

"Of course." Lisa nodded.

Andy stood from the table, running a hand down the strip of silk that hung around his neck. He touched her bare shoulder as he walked past her, and it took everything Lisa had in her not to recoil from the contact. Once he had disappeared around the corner and was out of her line of sight, Lisa dropped her forehead into her hands and blew out a lungful of air. She was going to have to remember to thank Cynthia for this one. What was she saying? That was uncalled for and she knew it. This wasn't Cynthia's fault. Lisa had been the one to agree to it. She should have known better. The word 'blind date' was a synonym for the word 'misery'. Everybody in their right mind knew that.

Another deep breath.

All she had to do was survive the evening. A few more hours.

She heard Andy sit back down across from her and suppressed a groan. Swallowed it, forced it back down her throat the same way she had done that awful wine. Damn, that was fast, she thought. He had better have washed his damn hands. She gathered her wits and looked up from her hands.

"I turn my back for a few lousy months and this is who you replace me with!" Jackson said, his voice incredulous, amusement dancing behind those deep blue orbs, "I think I'm insulted."

Lisa touched her fingers to her lips as a smile, a real smile, spread across her face; one that went all the way up to her eyes. He sat there, draped over Andy's chair in that casual catlike way that only he possessed. After a moment, she dropped her hand back to the table, shrugged her shoulders nonchalantly, and tried to make herself look serious. "Well, you know, I couldn't wait around forever."

"Yeah, but, an ad agent? Leese! You couldn't at least land yourself a nice mob boss?"

"I hear the money's shit."

That earned her a grin.

"Besides," Lisa continued, "he has a Porsche."

"A Porsche?" Jackson repeated, leaning forward a little in his chair, "He must be compensating for something, then."

Lisa had no control over the laughter that burst from her lips. The people at the table beside them gave her a strange look and she pressed both hands to her mouth in attempt to quiet herself.

"_What _are you drinking, Leese?" Jackson asked. Not waiting for her to answer, he reached over, snatched her glass, and took a swig. His face instantly scrunched up in distaste and he looked down into the pale liquid as though it were sludge from the bottom of someone's shoe. He set it to the side and flashed Lisa a look before he gestured for her young waiter, who looked more than a little confused at the appearance of Lisa's new dinner partner.

"Yeah," Jackson said, "could I get a scotch neat and the lady would absolutely love a seabreeze."

"Right away, sir." The waiter said and vanished again.

"I was gonna get you a red wine, but with this date I figure you might need something a little stronger." He said, pushing the glass of wine to the far edge of the table. "So, tell me more about this date, other than his terrible taste in beverages."

"Where have you been?" Lisa asked.

"Around." Jackson replied, ever the master of vague nondescript answers.

"Where did you go?"

"I had to take care of some things."

She was good at being vague; he was better.

"Why did you stay away?" That question came out a lot weaker than she had intended it to and she hated it.

Jackson looked at her in a way that let her know that he had no intention of answering her at that moment. Maybe he would tell her later, but not tonight. She took a breath and decided that having him there was better than not. So, she went back to playing his game.

"He played football." The change in mood was instant, as was Jackson's adaptation to it. But, then he was used to adapting. He was a fucking chameleon.

"Sissy." He retorted.

"How does playing football make him a sissy?"

"Rugby. That's a man's sport."

"You play rugby?" Lisa said, not even masking the disbelief in her voice.

Just then, the waiter reappeared with their fresh drinks. Jackson tipped him a ten and took a sip of his scotch. Lisa took a drink from her seabreeze and closed her eyes, enjoying the taste of the vodka on her tongue. When she reopened her eyes, she found Jackson was just watching her, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. She licked off a few drops of cocktail that were clinging to her bottom lip as she set her glass down on the table.

"What are you doing here, Jackson?" she asked.

"Saving you from the mundane." Jackson said without missing a beat, leaning forward, bracing his folded arms on the tabletop.

Lisa had to smile. It was true. The word mundane would never be associated with anything having to do with Jackson Rippner. Leave it to Jackson to be able to just swoop in whenever he wanted to and make it seem like he was completely comfortable and right where he belonged. He was here offering to save her from the dreary humdrum of her life. It was at the very least, a tempting offer. He looked at her with those eyes, with that smile, and it was like she was paralyzed. God, he looked good. He sat there, playful smile tugging at his delectable mouth. He wore a black suit, perfectly tailored to fit his form, underneath which he wore a rich royal blue button up, unbuttoned at the collar. She didn't need to look at his shoes to know that they were the finest of Italian leather. How did he always manage to pull off that look? That casual yet suave and sophisticated look. Elegance without effort. It had to be in his attitude; his confidence. She bit down absently on the pad of her thumb as she admired him and he just smiled back at her. It was almost disconcerting the hold he had over her.

"Lisa?" the voice came, breaking her and Jackson's nice moment.

She looked up. "Andy!"

Andy was standing there at the edge of the table, rather awkwardly. He looked back and forth between Lisa and Jackson, but most of his attention was focused on Jackson.

"Andy Baxter." He introduced, offering his hand.

"Nice to meet you." Jackson said making no move to shake Andy's proffered hand and keeping his gaze locked firmly on Lisa.

Andy let his hand just hang there for a moment, before shuffling from foot to foot and finally stuffing both hands down into the pockets of his slacks. "And you are?"

"Lisa's date." Jackson smirked.

Lisa gave him a sharp look, eyes wide. She couldn't believe that he had just said that! Wait a second, yes she could. This was Jackson after all. A quiet whimper leaked out from her lips and she took another sip of her drink. A long sip.

"I believe you're mistaken, friend." Andy said.

"No, I'm not." Jackson said, lightly shaking his head and biting down on his bottom lip in that way that made him seem adorably boyish, "Ask her."

Lisa strangled on her drink when she swallowed so quickly that it went down the wrong way. She started coughing, turning between the two men like a deer caught in headlights. More like a suicidal deer caught between two different pair of headlights and trying to decide which ones to let run her over.

"Jackson!" she rasped in a harsh whisper for all the good it did her.

Jackson just leaned back comfortably in his chair, looking smug, that petulant grin firmly in place. He winked in that sly, secretive way and finally looked away from her and up at Andy. "Go ahead," he said, "ask her."

Andy looked at her, his eyebrows raised expectantly. "Lisa?" he said, "Who is this guy?"

Lisa opened her mouth to respond, though she had no idea what she was going to say. Thankfully, she was rescued when the lovely waiter appeared once again, this time carrying her and Andy's food. Lisa had never been so happy to see a steak in her life. Now, the poor boy looked back and forth between Jackson and Andy and then beamed a youthful smile at her. Lisa knew that he was secretly wondering which one was going to throw the first punch. Lisa wasn't sure about that, but she was pretty sure she could guarantee who was going to throw the last one. The young waiter set Andy's lamb down in front of Jackson, then placed Lisa's plate in front of her and his smile turned sympathetic.

"Will you be needing another seabreeze soon, ma'am?" he asked quietly so that only she could hear him.

Lisa looked up at him, "Oh, I like you kid."

The boy chuckled and walked away, casting one more glance at Jackson and Andy over his shoulder as he went. As soon as he was gone, Andy turned back to Lisa, putting his hands on his hips and setting his face in a rather harsh glare.

"Lisa," he repeated his question, "who is this guy?"

"Uh, well, this is…" she searched for the proper words, "this is Jackson."

"An old friend?" Andy asked.

Lisa's eyebrows drew together as she thought about that one. It didn't seem quite the right way to describe her relationship with Jackson. Old friend? She didn't think they had ever been new friends.

"Um…well…" She smiled, "It's complicated."

There! That was a perfect description!

"Well," Andy said, turning his stern expression on Jackson, "Jackson, I'm sure I don't really need to tell you just how rude it is to interrupt someone's dinner uninvited."

"You know what?" Jackson said, slapping his palms lightly on the table, "You are absolutely right and I apologize."

He sprang up from his chair and took Andy by the arm and sat him back down in the seat. Andy was looking more confused than ever, and Lisa was just thinking about how she really didn't want him to leave. He said that he would save her!

"I am so sorry for disturbing your meal. So, you just sit right here and enjoy your dinner." Then, without warning, he grabbed Lisa by the wrist and pulled her up from the table, "We'll just see ourselves out. It was nice to meet you, Andy."

Lisa stumbled over several sounds but never actually managed to form any words to apologize to Andy as Jackson wrapped his arm around her waist and lead her out of the restaurant. She offered little resistance as Jackson guided her through the parking lot, though she did cast several glances over her shoulder, halfway expecting Andy to come barreling out after them. Possibly wielding a gun like most of the people who came barreling out of buildings after Jackson.

Jackson took her elbow and pulled her to a stop just short of halfway across the lot. He backed away from her two steps and let his gaze travel the length of her body, devouring her with his eyes. To Lisa, his stare felt like a pleasant caress. She didn't mind it. He let out a low whistle and shook his head, shoving his hands into his pants pockets.

"Now, _that _is a dress." He said, closing the distance between them once again.

"You like it, do you?" Lisa said on a smile, spinning around to give him a proper view of just how low the dip in the back ran.

She saw his body physically rise as he took in a deep breath. She smiled again and started to walk away. He caught her once again by the elbow and pulled her back to him. Without hesitation, without thought, without fear, and without a fight from her, he used his free hand to cradle the small of her neck and pull her into a kiss.

Lisa's eyes fluttered closed as she melted into him, wrapping her arms around his neck as the kiss grew more intense, more passionate. She wanted to delve into him; into the taste of his mouth, of his tongue. Jackson pressed her back against the side of some random car, his hands roaming freely, eagerly over the thin material of the dress. The way the silk felt under the heat of his touch, he may as well have been touching her naked body. His mouth trailed over her chin, then dipped down into the nape of her neck, where he continued his assault. She let her head drop back against the window of the car and tangled her hands into the long tufts of Jackson's hair. His hand ran over the flesh of her rear, to her thigh, and she twisted her fingers into his hair and pulled, forgetting momentarily that they were still very much in public. Her eyelids batted open for the briefest second, but it was long enough for her to see Andy standing beneath the overhand of the restaurant, staring at them, mouth agape.

Her eyes shot open with a gasp, she pushed Jackson away from her by the shoulders. The force with which she hit him caught him by surprise and he slammed into the side of the car on the other side of them. He straightened his clothes and cleared his throat, a sheepish look crossing his face as though embarrassed that he had let himself lose control.

But, then, when had he ever had control where Lisa was concerned?

The look was gone almost as quickly as it had appeared. He bit down on his bottom lip and looked at her from the tops of his eyelids; a look that made him seem boyish and contrite when he was far from either. His eyes were bright and alive and the corners of his mouth tipped upward. Lisa smiled back, not bothering to fight off the blush that had taken over her cheeks. Jackson straightened from the car and offered her his arm. She accepted it and they continued their way through the parking lot.

Jackson's thoughts had already turned to how soon he could get them back to Lisa's apartment. It hadn't taken much to set him off. Besides, he had waited long enough. He brushed a curl back behind her ear, which earned him another smile. Damn, he thought, how did I stay away this long? He would have to explain it to her sooner or later, but not yet. He wanted the night to be perfect and if he started drudging up work and clean up crews and all the messy little details that Lisa didn't need to know about, it would ruin everything. She didn't need to hear how he had had to bargain with a few powerful people in order to secure her safety and had only been able to do so because they knew that he was a valuable asset and a terrifying adversary. He didn't want to see that line form in the middle of her brow that always appeared when she was worried about something. It would all come out eventually, but for now it could just be them. He had stayed away from her to protect her. But that was done now and he had no intention of having to be away from her for that long ever again if he could help it.

He fished his car keys from his pocket and clicked the 'unlock' button. The taillights winked at them and Lisa broke into a huge grin.

"A Jaguar?" she said, "Now who's compensating for something?"

Jackson chuckled from deep in his throat. She loved that sound. That raw male sound. Jackson was a master of that sound. "No, Leese." He said, "A Porsche, that's overcompensation. A Jag! Now, that's just class!"

**The End**

**Author's Note: **Well, all fun things must come to an end. I hope you all enjoyed reading this story as much as I enjoyed writing it. I already figuring up the plot for my next _Redeye _fic, so keep a lookout. Don't forget to review!


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